Paroxysms of Love

Day, after day, after day,
She sits,
In her
Archaic chair,
Dissembling her egregious anger,
Towards him, her deceiving stratagem of
Staring him down, in such a way to say…
I am better than you…
Her fealty towards her elderly, concealed self forcing,
A vendetta, between her…. And him,
An invisible barrier of bitter, cold, anger,
Stultifying them, slowly… slowly… slowly…
Ripping them to pieces,
Malifying his rectitude, his optimism to,
A distorted mix of guilt, depression, anger.
Caused by that simple carousing, that one night,
That brought them closer, closer, closer, than they’d ever
Been before, with anyone. That one night, began,
That horrific hourglass of hate, that slowly,
Seeped, the life, out of their very souls,
All because, of, their,
Paroxysms of love.