Photo by Daniel Cañibano on Unsplash

hat can I write to you about endings?

I’ve ended jobs, moved on.

I’ve ended relationships, been alone.

I’ve left flats, moved elsewhere.

I’ve had relationships end with me, no more texts.

I don’t always feel bereft at endings.

I hope I am not cold but hot and optimistic, like the sun rising on a New Year hangover.

Endings co-ordinated by me, never thoughtless.

Endings by others, well…I live on.

Those are the endings in reach, if I stretch out my arms…beyond the present and their they sit.

For now, I will leave them there.

Endings are beginnings, waltzing round in the dance of life.

I’m dancing alone just now; are you?

But let this dance; in a couple; a thruple; single, never be insignificant when our being ends.

I pay myself to think. Youth Worker and former Gender Studies student now writing on LGBTQ culture, social spaces and gender.

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