50 Here I stand on the coastline of the next half century watching waters wash over these feet as they prepare to step into a new time of power. Oh senile uterus, allow griefs dense fog to soften the now sporadic memory of your need to bleed. Release the yearnings of youth’s anticipation for new life to grow in your once fertile womb. Wade through restless waters of change wander deeper into the dark quietness of blood-less wisdom Greet this journey of cronehood uncharted with wet washed feet. Step in. ~JK
Posted on: Tue, 11 Jun 2013 20:23:24 +0000