I met a girl, whose name is Marionette
because her grandmother was French,
although her parents are from Pittsburgh.
Her name is Marionette and she dresses as if it is a party
every day, bright colors and shiny sandals that
do not match, except for her,
who makes exceptions.
Marionette works in a restaurant when she is not painting,
which is often so I mostly talk to her
with her back turned.
She says it is ok because she has eyes there.
They aren't as green as the others, I say
Yes, they are, she responds, in a low spooky voice,
you just can't see them.
Marionette, whom I hardly know,
sleeps with a nightlight
but won't tell me why.