Golden Eyes

Note: Not sure if this a poem or what category, really...

Eyes
Golden Eyes with Dark Circles beneath.
Leopard Print.
Fake fur in tight capris.
She’s tearing at her bold, blonde, platinum plaits.
With Ruby Red nails.
So red she wants to cry.
But she can’t.
Big Girls don’t cry.

Oh, And there he is.
My Loki
He’ll finish her off.

And it makes me smile.

Behind her with the knife.
The glint off the moon
Reflects his mischievous smile in its splinter.
A half grin itself
It slides into the flesh
With a gentle squish
Like cutting butter
Glad for all those hours
Manicuring it for the occasion.

She never cried over the futility of her own
Primping.
She never screamed for
The blade.
Never realized my Loki
For his stealth.

And the Golden Eyes
Finally close
Under the red viscous torrent
Faux fur matted with blood.