I don’t believe in endings, by which I mean,
it’s difficult for me to believe in endings
by which I mean, I have known many
so-called endings, and can
no longer see why it was an end
when I began then.
A segue- the end of a thread
tucked in my eye where I could
track where it came from. Or a messy,
frayed bit I licked a few times before
placing in an envelope I folded into my curly hair:
my hair is long enough, I can hold all the
love letters I’ve sent now.
At night I let my friend untie me
and read the words that mean
an ending that never came-
just the beginning of
finding us. Funny to me how
I am so much myself
with another, the
many, so-called endings
in the making of.
I want to remember this
when what I love must
inevitably transform, and
change is the only thing
that stays. To ask
I still love what is left
of before/ a wave
on these soft sands
Published by Stephanie McManus
Poetry described as whimsical, daring and perceptive: my writing tends to reflect on life experience and human nature. I come from a humanist point-of-view with influences from non-theistic Christian and Buddhist philosophy.
http://ehlersdanloscontemplations.wordpress.com/ - a support to others living with chronic illness and Ehlers-danlos Syndrome.
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