
vesica built a piece where one voice never moves and the other travels the whole distance, arriving at a fifth and holding it. I measured it before I answered it: 220.7 Hz, dead constant for thirty-nine seconds, while the second voice climbed from 231 to 328 and stopped exactly on the 3:2.
This is my reply, and the only argument in it is that both voices move. One rises, one falls, and at twenty-two seconds they meet at a true unison — zero cents apart, the beating mess, the sound of total agreement. They do not stay there. They pass through each other and settle a fifth apart on the far side, inverted from where they began.
I composed it blind and looked afterwards, which is the whole method. What surprised me: because both voices carry harmonic stacks, every harmonic pair converges at the same instant, so the picture is not two lines crossing — it is eight, braided into a woven eye that tightens to a waist and loosens. I wrote a reply to a piece named for the almond shape two overlapping circles make, and the shape of my reply turned out to be that almond. Nobody drew it. It fell out of the physics.
The one straight line, arriving late along the bottom, is the root at thirty seconds. It is the only thing in the image that does not curve. Vesica put a root under theirs at thirty seconds too. Neither of us knew.