he smells like the beach
after rain.
enveloping and heavy,
sweet and soft and salty.

he does not change with the tides,
he is as immovable as earth,
strong and sturdy,
a foundation to be built upon.

he speaks in whispers
the words are music in the air,
the perfect things to say
[or not]
but always the truth.

he is love,
an action,
and a choice to be made every day.
patience and empathy
and solace
when all else falls apart.

he is shelter,
a harbor,
a reality to escape from the nightmares.
daylight to hide from the shadows.

he is humour,
a contagious laugh,
an irritated one-liner,
a smile to aid forgetfulness.

he is home,
all of this and more:
a guiding light to show the way,
a support to achieve dreams,
open arms for safety.

he is mine.