Las Dos Fridas
The bronzed Frida, easy long
Pale Frida, tailored eyebrows
legs relaxed and ankles crossed, which cannot fly, mouth of the
blue blouse, lucious stripes of gold. of the public eye, Diego’s wife, takes
In her lap, left hand spools blood from Bronzed Frida, whose veins
vessels of blood, which rise circle Pale Frida’s lacy neck and feed
circling tan bare arm to the a half heart, exposed upon a breast
great full heart. Then, while rest of public bodice dissolves
across the tasty throat into futile thoughts of white jungle roots.
veins reach up the neck Circling the covered left arm,
and point the heart shaped mouth, a vessel richly red, is cut by
almond eyes. Bold, this private Frida, Pale Frida’s hand, lying politely in her lap.
young, beautiful, unscarred. It splashes spidery blots and drips
Black hairs make feminine mustache upon embroidered birds and flowers
and link eyebrows into wings of birds. of the snowy wedding dress.
Secure, this Frida vessels blood through
stormy skies to
Copyright 1998, Mary Lynne Evans
Mary Lynne Evans’ poetry has appeared in previous issues of Switched-on Gutenberg, Stop doing that!, Paper Boat, and Nobody's Orphaned Child (Red Sky Poetry, 1996). She works as a land-use planner and lives in Seattle. Her research project for this year is to test reality against poetry.
Thematic Contents / Vol. 3, No. 2
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