Loveless Love

He knocks at the throbbing amethyst door, entering the warm darkness of her chamber. Out on the street the December wind blows snow flakes wildly. At home viscous minutes drip from a faucet of life: drop, drop, one drop at a time. His wife senses his awkwardness. She knows. 'An empty fling', he tells her embarrassedly, 'completely meningless'. She is shocked. 'Nothing is meaningless', she says in a sad voice. 'Lust and pleasure carry meaning. Involvement always has meaning.' Flowers of doom burgeon and sprout in her cells. The demon of divorce winks from a corner.