Girls in Black

When I see a girl,

in black,

(all black),

like mascara black,

stocking black

(fishnets preferred

(torn, even better)),


tattoo-through-a-thin-white-shirt black

(could be a fairy or a butterfly or both black),

Ink black,

Raven black,

“Quoth the raven” black,

Midnight black,

After midnight black,

Way after midnight black-

Pupil black,

Dilated pupil black,

Dilated (high, high), pupil, pupil, black, black-

I can’t help but wonder,

what they are so sad about.

What they are mourning.

Is it that they are too young,

Too pretty,

Too well (if distantly) admired,

By me?

Certainly not.

(I like to tell myself they don’t know I exist

(which both does and does not make it better)).

But what can I do?

I can’t not watch.

Can’t not stare.

Can’t not breathe

(But forget).

I can’t not stop

(But must).

And so…

I frequent coffee shops,

and obscure readings,


And remote wings of art museums,

Where they sit and sketch,

With their dark hair,

And morose downward glances and

(if I’m lucky)

Nose or lip or eyebrow rings.

And for a moment,


That black,

That bottom-of-the-ocean,

Dark cave,




Woke up blind,



Becomes the opposite of empty,

The opposite of nothing,

And I can see forever,

In the reflection

Of my darkest desire.

3 thoughts on “Girls in Black

  1. I thought this was a Trifecta entry. Wasn’t sure if you’re aware (maybe you are). This week is Trifecta’s last challenge. Ever.

      • I remember liking this originally. Life got in the way (work, kids, etc..). I judged last summer with two others, for only one challenge. It was intensely time consuming. I “get” it. Sad, sad! Should say one more sad for Trifecta threes. I don’t know where I’ll go either. Wahhh!!!!!!! is right!!!

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