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Leonora and Remedios Cadaver the Domestic

Simone Muench & Jackie K. White | Poetry

They allegory, they revelation, they knife

            their oils over parchments, aluminum,

cigar spit stains. They even embroider,

as expected: eyes on a table, horses on

            candlesticks. Long done with harlequins

parading as heroes, they jugular 

red wax seals in a parlor of green vials

            and morphine, sparking the electricity                   

of leaves through torsos of leaves. They

spur on motorcades with blue uniforms 

            glistening like lake-slicked herons.

Behind so many curtains of so much                        

cerise, they listen, they swill, they turn 

            statues to bodies and bodies to feathers 

sky-swirling like glasses of wine swept 

from dinner tables in high-flown hand           

            gestures. In fossilized phrases no longer 

used, they outline, they outlive, they wound.