A love that made Gulliver look small and stupid

He used to find a great pleasure just in staring her curves, staring her curious eyes inspecting every corner of their new found temple. Her innocent questions willing to reveal every aspect of that new life. The entire (how small it was) apartment had acquired the scent of their own spirit, even with the rubbish decors and horrible painted walls they tried to find happiness inside those right angles, cubes of empty space flirting with their hesitant bodies, smelling fresh food and orient odors.
Staring her eyes, multiplying it by million, mirrors reflecting a thousand years of couples fighting to believe in their own daydreamed feelings, what was that look in her eyes? What did that mean? A glimpse he didn't recognize, a flash of red and humid light exhilarating the heartbeat,  just a second before the bomb explode every of their desires out, codified symbols long forgotten. He knew from that moment that he will die without getting to know her, that simple sentence that once approached them was now re-signified to carry a sweet and acid irony, the last joke screamed by a condemned before the thin razor. They were never alike, and that never was a problem, great laugh came out of that actually.
But she was at the same time like a shadow, a presence we couldn't properly grasp and still she was there, reading, revolving, thinking, and effect were never know for she chose to present me another self, a bitter and difficult. While all the world were spinning like a mad hatter around our head she decided to simple not do it and to constantly move the semantics of that relationship, and that was like the strongest and more honest of love she was able to do.
They said goodbye to each other with their hearts full of gold, without knowing they will never see each other again, time to sail to unknown oceans, to unimaginable beasts and to an uncertain future, leave this city to its people and continue to wander, like he always did, like a lost soul in a constellation of partly recognizable figures, a monument to the dead flies over his tired body, to the comets he will still read about, to lovers who decided to fall in the name of the fire that will burn their hearts only for a second, to all things they could have done together, in another time, in another life.