Marks out of men.

A colon was raised upon her neck,
And a horizontal dotted line with tear along writ under.
Speech marks were placed beside her mouth,
Whilst a bubble drifted up above as if to lift her
thoughts.
A question mark cornered each eye,
Which appeared to be the last things in need of
answers,
And two full stops beneath her nose,
As though her humours had dried up a while
before;
Around the time she’d found a laminate,
To cover and protect her from the erasure of my
light,
But once coated over,
She was unable to coordinate her loves with her
dislikes.
And so with a face of harshest white
She moved towards a type that could afford
her,
And finishing with words
Left her chapter without need of
puncture marks.