| Twelve Hours |
| Was it releasing a puddle of tears on my shrink’s floor? Was it a kneading massage from sixty year old Shelia? Was it bopping to salsa music while eating a Cuban fried mashed potato ball? Was it smelling sweetness while picking out bakery treats? Was it watching Rhapsody hide under her coat while drawing castles? Was it seeing Bucky skip after he choose where to eat dinner? Was it running to the bedroom bay windows in jammies when thunder announced rain tap dance on The Hudson about to begin? I don’t know. I just know I felt like living again. |