Collecting the photos at the counter next to where

She bought the testing kit he sees what he has done,

She has, they have, down there

In the deepest circle by the font that one

Script called the Samaritan Woman's Well

And the other Lethe. She is displayed

Much like a nude against the knobby wall

Of end-on femurs and humeri, arms wide

Along a dado curve of skulls. Boudoir

Or chapel apse in a kraal of bone of some

Few hundred of several millions of dead,

His lens, the flash, her look of centre spread.

The place? Down there. And when? The morning after

One of his several million sperm went home.