She looks upwards, flowers and balconies, a lonely chair creating images of hours spent in reading or reflections. He looks downwards, a manhole, a litter box, a line meant to show blind people their way. He wonders about the people working in the community, what are their workdays like.
Two people in harmony, yet two people with minds drifting different ways. You live close day after day, chained in matrimony, yet you never know the ways of your other self's mind. Two people in harmony, and to get the harmony perfect, complete, you play the instrument you have been given.
They share, and two halves make a whole. Difference makes a perfect match.