The girl in the train looks out with brown eyes
fixed and lost.
What is she looking for? What is gone? Why
this black frost
on a spring face? She really can’t be said
a pretty girl
precisely, rather a cleverly remade
pretty doll.
Bright bleached hair curves in a cunning fall
round masked skin.
Only the fixed brown eyes seem to reveal
someone within.
Self-made? self-murdered? blank as a solitary
prisoner
she is looking blindly through those lost eyes
for her brown hair.