If, in love, there is a moment of criticism of ideology, it lies in the necessity to open the rhetoric addressing the other, which is controlled by stereotypes towards a space of a language yet to be invented, which expects as little convention as possible of the singularities of love. As if every love demanded the suspension of the vocabulary used to describe it, like the reinvention of language along this singular constellation of subjects marveling at and communicating their own improbability. As if it were about honoring the miracle of love with the means of a new lexis. As if a creative force belonged to it, which laments the injustice of language to constitute itself as resistance against all possible conventions. As if the union of lovers was an act of resistance. As if, with the decision for this union with this subject, all categories were at stake, which define intersubjectivity, community, collectivity. As if the lovers had to insist on the incommunicability and improbability of their experience. As if the exceptional character belonged to love just like this improbability and incommunicability. We see how easily lovers falls for self-literarization by granting themselves a singularity which might elevate them from the world of facts.