She is here.

At the edge of forever,

at the beginning 

of the rest of her life. 

Standing in the open door. 

Or am I walking through it? 

She is walking into me.

We are becoming. 

Mold forms around her crevices,

encompassing the 

woman

we once were.

Waves crash into the remaining pieces.

A shell, 

of a reminder, 

left behind. 

I need no physical boundaries, to be. 

Instead, she is on the cusp. 

On a rollercoaster

about to ascend,

into greatness.

Butterflies rise up

in the pit of her stomach.

Reminding me, she is here. 

It is time, to become we. 

To become, 

bigger than I ever was. 

Stronger together, 

In unison, 

Becoming 

who we were meant to be

She is me. 

We dive into

a never-ending dance

of existence. 

We become enmeshed 

in the struggles

we overcame. 

Intertwined with our potential,

we’ve yet to discover. 

We thrive in the 

State of becoming.