closed for the holidays

you turn
the sign over.
closed for
the holidays.
it's stapled
to your chest,
over where your
heart used to be.
and people stare,
but they don't
ask. they see
a look in your
eye that you
are not to be
fooled with.
they press their
faces to the
window, wanting
a part of you, but
you are truly
closed. you have
had enough of
love, the commerce
of affection.
no sales will
be transacted
during this
period of time
and you wave them
away with your
hand. you fold
your arms
and point to
the sign on
your chest and
shake your head,
no. i'm sorry,
you whisper
through the window,
but we're closed.