by Starr

Everything ugly sticks out before my flow with the waxing moon and I seek refuge.

That is the state of pms

I want to be guarded from the ugly. And soothed gently with love and words of comfort that argue my darkness my insanity. That seems too much to ask. So I should simply run and hide with my fear and demons.

Then I will raise my head in a few days with cramps keeping me grounded and earthly as can be, my heavy flow that now as I age dictates staying inside while the moon is full.

Seems the wisdom of age is tempered with the bodies frailties does it not?

After this week I am fierce, positive and can do anything especially love and make babies .

Maybe not perfect ones anymore.

This is the ebb and flow of my body as perfect as God made the design I must learn to embrace all that it is.

Poem written by Starr

“To know how to grow old is the master-work of wisdom, and one of the most difficult chapters in the great art of living.”

— Henri Amiel