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"Actually no," I said, "not in that way I have?" I said. "Have you?"
She nodded. "I thought about it when you were talking about lips?" she added, speaking more softly now. "Are you an expert on lips too? Remember you mentioned the subject?"
"Oh, I thought we were talking about life and the sewer station and everything that springs out of life?" I said and grinned some more.
"Ah, I see," she said. "We are having a dialog that involves multiple voices exploring the same theme like a great bel canto singing."
I nodded. "And the main theme here is lips, and love, and embracing and kissing and all," I affirmed.
"Is the term, all, a metaphor?" she asked quickly. "Or does it relate to something specific?"
"Something specific, I'd say, relating to lips of course," I replied. "It might also be related to this wonderful environment here, surrounded by acres of flowers, soft light, sweet fragrant air and a gentle stillness. It all opens up boundless possibilities in which the term, all, can have many significations. Life and its beauty can have so many facets and be without limits. Some of these are found in lips and in love, at least some people may think so, maybe even all people do so without acknowledging that they do."
Her face became a radiant smile. "Which girl wouldn't want these to be drawn together?" she said and began to grin. "Maybe some wouldn't, but this girl is not one of them," she added.
She came close to me at this moment for a tight embrace. "All lips you say?" she added before we kissed. "Right here?" she said many moments later with the same radiant smile.
"What other place on this ship can compare to this garden?" I asked. "What greater metaphor can be found? We are all beautiful flowers in the garden of life. Some are men, and some are woman. Do you know what a wonderful woman I saw in the lunchroom when I saw you, as if I had never seen a female human being in all my life? It was that kind of miracle, seeing you. I was almost too shy to say hallow, and all that, because you're a woman. But I also did find the courage for this very reason to stand up and meet you. If I hadn't had this courage the loss would have been too great. So I dared."
"I love to be loved as a woman, because that's what I am," she answered before our lips met again. "I'm not just a woman by name. I'm a person and a woman."
"Oh, you are a woman of a beautiful soul," I said, "and with beautiful lips. All of them."
"All of them? Oh, how would you know?" she said and invited me to dance.
We danced, although there was no music to be heard. She invited me to dance with her the tango.
"I presumed," I said, "when I said all of them! I presume a lot of things," I said while we danced the tango to the tune of our own melodies.
We danced well, as much as there was space for dancing between the ponds and the dancing was still manageable at forty-percent gravity and reduced traction.
"Am I presuming correctly in what I'm presuming?" I added. I loved the Spanish fire in her eyes as we danced.
"That depends on what you are presuming," she replied and grinned. "Are you presuming that there are other possibilities at forty percent gravity, involving other lips?"
"There may be possibilities that no one has yet discovered," I said while we continued the dancing. We were moving deeper and deeper into the endless seeming labyrinth of flowering ponds.
"Lips at forty-percent, who knows?" I said during the dancing. "Something like that might open up a whole new discipline of science to explore."
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Stories about
Love
from novels by Rolf A. F. Witzsche
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