I’m choking on my lack of
posterity
Concerned about being worthy
Of being remembered beyond my chronology
Stuck in the rut of pointless regrets
Clawing at the self deprecation
As if self loathing is as critical as a mosquito bite
Or as crucial as picnic potato salad
words. hearts. secrets.
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End-of-Life Doula
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By Tony Single
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A Gender Transition Journey
Journey of an East Tennessee Seeker
Mare Martell 
I love you. I cannot imagine anyone forgetting you. Your legacy is already an open giving spirit that ignores no one. Your legacy is unconditional love for all beings. Your legacy is gentle giddy giggling spirit, foolish frolicking–in the best possible sense of frolicking, wild well crafted wordsmithing–awash with witty wonderings. You are the humanest human I know. My greatest wish would be to study and commune with you in words and art and coffee (even though I don’t drink coffee. ❤
Thank you.