is how it all ends?
With two people sitting side by side, no longer in front of an altar, but a court?
With two eyes that wander aimlessly embarrassed but not able to meet?
With children assigned to one or another as part of a well in the division? With a week
fragmented into small portions of time made of timed visits, walks with dad, grandparents of Sundays, and evenings in the company of the psychologist?
with the duties and pleasures within the quantified benefits to be paid?
end is where the promises of eternity, the exchange of accomplices and adoring glances, the tears of joy?
In the folds of a crumpled file?
is it really so that it all ends?
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