Surveillance, stoic, single pane, sisters
shadowed, glass, wool drenched rain — sharp, shrill, too svelte,
the two he spies. Drips raindrop tears, monster’s
eyeless alibis — sympathy unfelt.
Same scheme of screams, two dreams to wander in,
lackluster, but double dividends. No
abduction. Mansion moans. Violins
of daydreams, damsel he could not let go.
Her shoddy shift, a soot-smudged cheek, basement
eyes she cannot blink — a biography
of fairy art, relative enslavement.
Dark iris echoes his geography.
Her ribcaged heart his fingered gothic cello,
he strums a strung out whisper — Slenderella.
Kristin Garth is a poet from Pensacola and a sonnet stalker. In addition to Lonesome October Lit, her sonnets have stalked magazines like Five: 2: One, Glass, Anti-Heroin Chic, Occulum, Drunk Monkeys, Luna Luna and many more. Her chapbook Pink Plastic House is available from Maverick Duck Press, and she has two forthcoming: Pensacola Girls (Bone & Ink Press, Sept 2018) and Shakespeare for Sociopaths (The Hedgehog Poetry Press Jan 2019). Follow her on Twitter: @lolaandjolie