The World’s Romance

The world's romance are paramours
And love affaires---men's dispassion
And women making love with one
Who is not their husband.
It is the opposite of Odysseus's wife
Where the two, parted, make each their consorts
And loves luxuriously without one another.
My broken heart cannot bear it. 
Parted, no one loves or swells with joy
To see another, but rather stale misery
They meet their wives, and
"Misery me misery, I am not in love!"
Separately they live, and hollow was their marriage.
There is no friendship, no love in the bones
But cruel sex for childrearing
And the fruit of adultery's sting for joy.
I am not built for this world
But another it seems.
For all counsel me that this is how it must be.