Behind Their Eyes
Only one hole of her hides in a tuft
of the black leather daybed. Still the right
auricle echoes the gentle and rough
that is said. Led by educated insights
into disturbed college girls, he knows
she believes this is free will — striptease
of cardigan, pearls, surname and fore. Bow
bestowed from a drawer of his desk, knees
familiar with floor like any good Christian
girl redressed in humility. It is not
the first time someone made her question
if she is who she should be. Needless thoughts,
she is taught, dissipate — clouds to serene skies.
Good girls are only empty behind their eyes.
Horror Sleaze Trash 