Could remove the onyx tinted contacts
and boys would be surprised to see the blue
irises hidden, like blonde roots you must dye
every week to keep from public view.
Carry a charcoal parasol when there
is the slightest forecast of sunbeams
on skin that goes golden everywhere
within a half an hour, it always seems.
If it all happened at once, you’d look like
some ordinary girl who bakes oatmeal
raisin cookies with fair hair pin curled tight,
a cinnamon sweet heart that will make them feel
love in lieu of fright at the black heart you hide.
You need to look as dead as you are inside.