Yin and Yang

I've always designed this moment.
An empty chair in class;
A good-looking bearded man wearing a cross necklace.
Something would shift. Instantaneously.
The meeting of our eyes would be followed by the joining of our minds.
We would jump, fearlessly, into a world of perpetual mirrors.
What he sees in me, I see in him. It's what we already have in ourselves. 
He's a connoisseur of my rebellious existence and he rests his worries upon MY back. 
This back, he massages and absorbs my pain through his hands. 
Those hands are rough and callous as he plows through the world.
I kiss those hands and put a full dinner plate in them. 
He washes away my hours of labor in the sink and we both watch it swirl down the drain.
We sit down to a glass of wine and look at each other. 
Really see each other.
We gulp the drink and meet halfway across the room. 
He kisses my neck, which has the daunting task of balancing an eclectic mind. 
His eyes are touched by my lips and I kiss away all he has seen outside. 
We both sink into a passion on the floor.
Yin and yang.