for no one

The time was of outmost importance. It took 90 minutes. The hour and the half.

He held her and she held him in return. They did not speak much. When they did, it was about the passion. Occasionally, about the music. And every now and then, nonintelligible phrases only meant to heighten the experience.

They did.

There was a word on his hip and the constellation on her hand. There was a bed-frame and tapestries she found interesting. There were concepts he found unusual and in between them, below the frame and deep into the night, they met each other over and over again. There were no names, though.

The names are natural born complicators. So she hid hers and as he gave his freely away, it became too invaluable to use.

The time was of outmost importance. As was the date.

It could have meant nothing. In one of the worlds from far far away, it didn't. But in the world they met in, it was important. So they played along.

And in those 90 minutes, wrapped in the night and the spiral town, they freely shared the only things which were truly and always theirs.


A body. And another body. And the song which took forever to end.