(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.