Kristin Garth

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 β€”  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 β€” clouds to serene skies.
Good girls are only empty behind their eyes. 

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