Kristin Garth

Black Heart

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.

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