People are stories, works in progress

Politics of affection and sexual congress

But a face is a fullstop, brackets even

I picture your face when I’m grieving

The ‘I don’t care’ writ large and wide

Autographing what’s breaking me inside

Happy face, loveface all forgotten

Fullstop points to all that is rotten

The way you look at the very last

That’s the emotion I can’t move past

Don’t remember there’s life before death

Promise and joy and trust before regret

Pain erases all, takes up too much space

And that is why I hate your fullstop face


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