(Written about an old friend of mine for a creative writing class in 1994)
She has deep, dark eyes
Made darker with his rage and deeper with secrets.
Eyes that smile, somehow
Behind glistening tears, at the little girl on her lap.
Eyes that drop
When she lies to her closest friends.
But their eyes see
The scars covered with thick makeup,
The brusies behind sunglasses in the rain,
The subtle shake of her hand holding yet another cigarette
As the kettle whistles a song.
They hear the quiver in her voice
As it releases a heartless laugh.
And they search her deep, dark eyes for the reason why she lets him stay.