He was all about acute observations

and imagined responses;

living in a world of his own making.

She was all for big pictures,

everything in its place

and all according to plan.

He had grown accustomed

to taking things step by step;

a man with no plan or clue.

She had blistering pace

in her veins, octane and results

delivered straight to her fingertips.

He was soft voices

and practical expressions,

he loves with the tip of the tongue

and the teeth in the lips.


She was brazen

as the noon day sun,

and just as unflinching;

everything taken at face value.

She loves like a storm blows.


He is a man of words,

every syllable measured

and every word timed.

Every phrase measured

and weighed like bakers on a cake.

She is a woman of broken molds.

Every action with meaning

and every sound breaks free

before the mind catches up.

He and She,

coming together like flint rocks and oil;

searing fire, brighter than

the sun-draped coronas on the moon.

Just as an eclipse passes and wanes,

so too will their paths.

He will be alright.

It took a little time

but the broken corners

and mismatched street-signs

will right themselves in time.

He is stronger than he looks.

She will be fine.

Perhaps it wasn't the time

to push the issue,

but she can't un-say the words

that escaped like bullets.

She is stronger than she looks.

He and She,

parallel lines in a cross-section world.

He will learn Her fire,

and She will learn His calm.

One day, on a cerulean moon,

When the parallel lines slowly cross again,

She hopes He sees this too.