This moment curdles vinegar and blood,
a cruel, invincible snapping of future lifetime.
Thinking themselves together for eternity,
now shorn, and torn, and rent asunder.
Expectation, withers into helplessness,
crying ‘liberation’; staying even hope.
There is nothing now; but Oh

a waving, already unrelated to that which was.
Just a slight, confused recognition,
of love’s lifeless laughter at the
cuckold’s curséd cry.