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Seventeenth century violin: Used
twice, guaranteed to harness the departed
souls of a beloved pet. Pillow:
soft enough to couch each rumbling
dream. Organs: harvested fresh
from nutritionally-built up prisoners, free
of disease, while supplies last.
Eyes—surgically implanted
on pink pineapples blessed
by the Pope, certified in tongues
to reverse hexes, unwanted
gifts, and othersuch witchcraft (sprinkle
with holy water once daily
for desired effect). Infant pythons
and boa constrictors plucked
from a sleeping gorgon’s scalp—
because looks will kill
or render immobile. Lifetime warranties
apply. Empty husk of rainbow engineered
to blind assailants—good
for single use only. Promises
in place of a goodbye: Return
if seal is broken. Blanket
of stars: Weightless
as memory, warm
as home—never used. Kindly
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Alyza Taguilaso is a resident doctor training in General Surgery at Ospital ng Muntinlupa in the Philippines. Her poems have been shortlisted for the Bridport Poetry Prize and published in several publications, including ANMLY, High Chair, Stone Telling, and Kritika Kultura. You can find her at wordpress (@alyzataguilastorm) or instagram (@ventral).
Current Issue
20 Jan 2025

Strange Horizons
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