The universe is waiting for us.

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The universe was waiting
for us.
We both spoke to it, and
it talked back, with hope,
in hopes of us
being obedient,
sensitive, aware, honest
to, of, with one another.
You were not prepared
to let your emotions surrender;
I was not ready
to be vulnerable again.
Our aquatic flow was disrupted
by the burden that was
acid rain on our commemorative
statue of openness.

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How ironic is it that
the last day we spoke
we had planned to visit the zoo
but were both against the idea
of evolving, thriving souls
being held captive
in unnatural environments
for the viewing pleasure of others?
Your fears of the unknown
were contagious to the touch.
Yet, my arms still flew open
at the sight, the vision, the view,
of you.
You had potential;
I had promise.

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Your statue wore down quickly
while the weapons of my mind dulled.
Our maker gave us a chance
to acknowledge the shift,
the movement in priority
to be free and love again.
Smothered, buried, decaying.
The wholeness of us
might find its way back
it can stay lost, too.
I will keep my better ear
pointed toward the universe;
I will find comfort
in remembering the ultimate plan
is not manifested by us.
The universe is still waiting.
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photos of me by Chelsea Jackson. follow me on Instagram @DevriVelazquez.

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