He is the smell of freshly washed cotton

She is the thin gold chain that supports the crystal around your neck

He is the refreshing, cooling sensation the wind gives your sticky skin on a hot day.

She is the soil beneath the rose bush

He is the sound of the wind on a 75 degree day

She is the clouds that hold back the rain

He is the coolness of a brisk morning in the dead of winter, but the subtle warmth of the sun.

She is the sun, the warmth

He is the smell of the salty ocean at sunrise in september.

She is the solid ground beneath the stepping stones of the garden in your front yard

He is the smoothness of freshly dry cleaned velvet.

She is the pencil you hold in your hand. The words on the page.

He is the blank page. 

The empty book. 

Waiting for her.

A true duo.