He, a man sans secrets.

She, a melding of mysteries.

With him,

what you saw

was what was.

With her,

the ground she stood upon

was a maybe,

unsubstantial.

Always the question of

whether it would hold solid

under the tread of her feet.

The road behind him,

transparent to his mothers womb.

Behind her,

nothing but fog.

Therefore,

each was perfect for the other.

He,

longing for mystery

and the unexpected results

of her next thought.

She,

craving his sure know-ness.

It was a love fashioned in Hell

for a marriage planned in Heaven.

And the watching world

held its breath.