The Death of Love

Inevitably, when the two of them met, it was love at first sight,

the sight whose one eye cannot see and the other’s blind.

But the passion, if not the reason, flamed intense,

and they were both deceived equally in the pretense.

They went out, they had sex they thought was good,

and thoughts of seriousness were entertained.  One night,

after they’d been going hard at it, he slept content,

but when he opened his eyes, he knew that love had died.

 

Note: The final line, with slight modification, is taken from E. M. Forster’s Maurice.

 

Copyright 2013

T. Allen Culpepper

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