The elder sister
eats a bloated honeybee,
pinches it between her fingers,
brings it to her lips, and sucks
it down her throat, stinger
and all.
The corseted moon
lobotomized her
and crowned her sister.
They wear a cape of hairy caterpillars
stitched together.
The elder is like a marionette:
a queen of spiders.
The younger glows regal.
She has no need for hands.
Pareidolia: their only company.
The tissue where they hinge
is their only comfort.
The spiders knit them further
into each other,
cocooning them.
Despite the faces they find in everything,
all they have is each other.