Ellipses

Ya know it doesn't matter how many times you say it doesn't matter
because if you're wasting your time talking about it, then it clearly does.
Still, I like the sound of the needle ripping across the vinyl.
Its glossy surface can sometimes reflect my face
and you are the needle that's scribbling all over it.
But that's how music is made and we don't think one bit about the violence.
Even I can't feel what isn't being done to me.
Your needle is weathered, with a sharp edge that stings at first touch
but eventually smooths out like the needle of a tattoo artist.
Instead of my sigil you brand me with an ellipses in swift staccato strokes
Each time reintroduces the needle to my skin, giving reprieve with each period being completed
I bleed so that infinity may be captured. Or perhaps it's just a moment.
Nobody knows what ellipses signify. They're the Schrodinger's cat of punctuation.
But sometimes I like to imagine. So I use my ellipses as full moons.
My ellipses can sometimes be pendulums in stasis.
Or perhaps they are tree stumps, freshly murdered, bearing their age for all to see.
Do not mistake this exercise for idolatry. I did not want to learn quantum physics.
You hold my ellipses over me and I just want the entire thing to come crashing down.
So I take a deep breath, grab the needle and then...