Massage & Bodywork Therapist

When rest comes

What happens when

the thing we let go of

and the thing we want the most

are the same


What happens when

we transmute restriction

into pleasure


What happens when

we do not go to the edge

because there is no edge


When hope and fear are the same


When my bones ache from

not moving


Now comes the morning.

Now we wake from dreams.

poetryMegan Bowser