She was the yin to his yang.
by C.J. Heck
He was the dot to her 'i'.
When she was black and white,
he was the colors in between.
He finished her sentence.
She felt his thoughts.
They understood from the inside out
because that is how they began.
She was the words, he the notes,
together, an endless song.
He was her real after surreal dreams,
she the pier where he anchored his soul.
He was the rope when all else pulled her away.
She was his lamp in the dark.
Hers were the blue that mirrored the brown
in the looking glass eyes of the heart.
She was the soft to his hard
and when the door had closed,
when all the lights blinked out,
they were both fire and ice
blurring the lines
between the she and the he
until he was time, she the clock,
and together, eternity.