It had been betrayal
And I knew it
As I sat on the tavern stool
Disconsolate.

In the hollow
That had been my heart
Firebrands spluttered
And several
Disconcerted presences
Were writhing
From the unaccustomed light.

 Pat on cue
Sidled monsieur solliciteur
Purring of captivation
Helplessness
All of the intertwiningly enticing
Eve rousing Adam
Plea for a compassionate acquittal

And his words were so considerate
So velvet glove
So soothing a secular saviour
Of my tormented soul
That my eager arms
Would have clasped him to me
And concurred.

But with that very notion
The intent
Of what this surreptitious
Suave dissimulator
Was about
Suddenly burst upon me
And I was afraid.

 Frantic
He was already in too far
Too plausibly infused
 Too inextricable
I determined
Something had need be done
And on the nonce.

 And so seizing
The carver from the Carvery
I plunged
With all the might of my right shoulder
The glinting steel
Into the quaggy mid-most of his gut
And held it there.

Prostrate
And transfixed across my knee
He now lies moribund
 And quieted
Fitfully pulsating
Globs of slow-congealing suppuration
Round my wrist.

Soon I will stand
And cast this carcase from me
Buckle to what behoves my circumstance
And move ahead
Into the freshening future
Muttering
Over and over again.

It had been betrayal
And I knew it.
As I...