“She didnt recall how it all started, how they ended up in each others arms. She only recalled that somehow, it did start and somehow, they did end up in each others arms...
He was standing behind her, so close she could feel her hair quietly obeying his soft, gentle breath, quietly rippling.
Twenty fingers woven. and gripped. His juvenile hands a newly painted wall. The skin as clean and smooth as the new coat of paint. The bones as concrete as bricks and mortar.
His fingers departed hers. their tips traveling up and down her sleeves. Such a touch of purity! Almost to a point of clumsiness. Boyish clumsiness vs. the i-know-how caresses that she was used to.
She turned back to face him.
The newly painted wall vs. the great wall.
The newly painted wall vs. the berlin wall.
The newly painted wall now slowly extending to infinity, along her spine. Just her spine. The thin layer of her blouse that separated them melting.
They didnt kiss. He was only a few inches taller than she was, which made his shoulder her perfect headrest, the side of his neck a safe haven for her weak wine-stained lips.
The world is spinning at tempo of 200. And here they were, one step at a time. One step forward, one step to the right.
Two in one.
…
Two in one.
They didnt kiss.
One day, she knows the once newly painted wall will become the great wall, the berlin wall to someone else who will treasure it the way she did her great wall or berlin wall.”
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