Deserts of Love (II)

This time, it's the Woman I saw in the city, and to whom I spoke, and who speaks to me.
I was in the lightless room. I was told she was there: and I saw her in my bed, all for me, lightlessly! I was very emotional, not least because this was happening in my family home: and so an unease took hold of me! I was dressed in rags, while she, clearly a woman of the world who was giving herself to me: she had to leave! With a nameless unease, I took her, letting her fall off the bed, nearly naked; and, in my unspeakable weakness, I fell upon her and dragged us through the dark rugs! The family lamp reddened the neighboring rooms one after the next. And then the woman disappeared. I shed more tears than God could ever have asked.
I went out into the endless city. O fatigue! Drowning in the deaf night and in the flight of joy. It was like a winter night, with snow that would snuff out the world once and for all. Friends to whom I cried out *where is she* responded falsely. I went to the windows where she stands each night: I ran to the buried garden. I was cast out. I cried endlessly, because of all of this. Finally, I went down into a place filled with dust, and, sitting on some sort of frame, I let my body cry itself dry of every tear.--Nonetheless, my exhaustion returned over and over.
I understood that she had gone back to her daily life, and that this kind turn and the possibility of its recurrence was now more distant than a star. She didn't return, and never will, this Adorable who paid me a visit--something I never could have foreseen. Unquestionably, this time I cried more than all the world's children.