Full Stop

by Fiona Sharp 

I feel gravity tugging

My insides from my body and I know it is beginning as

I prepare to endure

The trial of my failure

To perform and

I remember once how

You threw out bloody sheets

Because your friend said

That he would never

Sit on your bed again

Even if you washed them and

Covered it up with

False oblivion

I once googled how to

Make it shorter not for

My pain but your pleasure

Advil, exercise, vitamins

Orgasm?

Closing my eyes I

Picture a Hitchcock shower

A finger triggered

Rorschach test of morals

Fissure plugged with shame-

Fully resorting to hand

Mouth, any orifice