The Singer

The Singer

Ria Hardcastle


She is a slender, polished metal.

Her wear and tear, worthy of an antique store.

An aged weight holds her to the moral table.



She purrs, awaiting the shot of the pistol.


Then, needle and thread interlock and miles fly.

Each stitch is quick with precision.


Dented spools and bent bobbins.


Mistakes, when sloppy is disguised as ego.