I'm moving to Boston!

I'm moving at the end of the summer. End. I love that word. It means that something else is about to begin. Nothing ever really ends, it just becomes something else. Like the phoenix rising from the ashes. Like energy. Like the life force, or soul, that inhabits all of our bodies. In my opinion, endings are almost better than beginnings. You can't have a new beginning without first having an ending. Here is poem I wrote about endings. It's about transition, progression, and transformation.

Gentle Hands

Gentle hands

Virile appendage, begotten by the arm of this man

Beget and arrest

My genesis of blithe plans

For better or for worse

Maiden lips doth not purse

For it was never really in your hands

My Colors Are Blush and Bashful