Identical, they were.
Straw hair and butterfly eyes,
And little crimson love-hearts pressed tightly
Together, hinting at equal smiles.
I prefer symmetry.
A purple bruise on the left eye of one,
A similar lump to the right eye of the other.
The love-hearts become bloodstains,
As smiles give way to grimaces.
Blotted patches of ugly red.
A cut from left cheek to lip
Creates ones’ twisted half-smile,
A permanent, joyless smirk.
Then my metal edge returns,
To the right cheek of the other.
Cuts deep, drags down.
But is it enough?
I lie them down, side by side,
Left arm of one down,
Right arm of the other,
Attached by needle and thread.
The arms on the outside
(Right for Left Girl, and vice versa)
Stretched out adjacent at equal angles,
Nailed to the wood they (she) lie(s) upon.
Like bloody butterfly wings.
I smile at my creation,
Art inspired by nature.
My adorable, beautiful,
Copyright Cory Eadson, 2012