They pose.
Young bodies mirrored to infinity.
Curves defined by underwire.
They model,
Clothes dangling price tags like jewelry.
They pirouette,
As spotlights touch their hair with gold.
My daughter.
Knows this drill.
Reaching to a row of costumes,
Trying each, then discarding.
The pile of castoffs grows while
I hover,
A voyeur in the doorway,
Dazzled by the bright hard image
Of girl on girl on girl.
Comments are closed.