Variation on a scene from "Miss Silver's Past" by Josef Skvorecky.
"Good night," she said, went in, and shut the door.
I closed my eyes. I couldn't leave that place --
got on my knees and yearned for her embrace,
exclaimed aloud: "I love you. I adore..."
I heard a gasp, and looked up. There she stood!
The door was open, light flowed from within,
she held a cat -- I caught its mocking grin --
together with a binbag and some wood.
She'd come to let the cat out. Dump the trash.
And there I knelt -- my erstwhile poise destroyed,
my mind exposed as on a couch to Freud,
my tongue a phoenix fizzled to an ash.
I got up, turned, and ran into a wall.
I learnt love has no dignity at all.