291/ June 26, 2011 - Again: we end.

“And where do they end, your sea and sky?”

At the tip of a beginning. On the threshold of change. At the edge of a stage, the outline of a phase— a face. To cycle on is the realization that there are no such things as endings. We will hop on from half moons to full moons, teetering on thresholds, waiting to break new shores. To each night is a morning, and to mornings there is me, the next day you.

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