‘The purpose….’ she said, ‘.. the purpose is to not dwell on the purpose’.

But she knew the purpose. He looked puzzled at her. He did that often, because god knows the stuff that comes out her mouth can be dirty beautiful and yet, like hurricanes in autumn. Unexpected, damaging and yet, poetic. But she, she did not ponder on how he saw or heard or ate her words. She was sitting with legs folded on the floor, red lips and messy hair, looking for nature magazines. Her dogs scattered around her and she wryly smiled to herself, because she knew they were the loves of her life. The only part of her that forever will stay pure and untouched. The love she had for them will forever go untouched by others and it will be certain into all eternities. He jumped as she suddenly played the music louder. She did things like that. Suddenly and yet, so many thought her to be predictable, stable and loyal. She was atleast one of those, but they, they did not know her. He never knew what her favorite song was at any given time. He did not know her favorite color and he did not know why she likes mint so much. But, he loved seeing her love things, even if it makes no sense. One day she would show off her tattoos with red lips and ride her motorcycle on a mission for the perfect beer. The next day she would wear a girly dress, barely made up in colors and walk barefoot while listening to the blues, sipping tea.  But, even though she was trying to hide the swan and be a duck, she was tired explaining her soul in actions. Words were long forgotten, resting on necks of previous lovers and remained footsteps behind open doors.

“The purpose” she whispered to her deaf dog, “was to built a goddamn life that aches it feels so good. To not get lost in these words, but on roads with someone who knows why you like mint. To wake up naked on an empty beach with only a motorcycle, a dream and the fire for a new adventure. That is the purpose”.