Under each Toni and Guy sign: Four black eyes On two blonde faces, Neither smiling. Each vacant face inviting me in A prostitute with no pimp Except the desires of their parents And eating disorders. Resembling a Belsen corpse made up for a Westlife concert, Lipgloss applied with lethal precision. Stare into her eyes, Try and see her soul, Or any other cliche It just isn?t there. The gaze of a rape victim The emotion of a murder victim. I knew the one on the left a few years ago. I wish her all the best.