Only in the Night

Jazzy

At night I dance. Don't think just f**king dance my mom would shout.

I couldn't afford classes, but I'd imagine that they would call me Jazzy.

I dance to the music of my son shrieking, and I know I now know glory.

GLORY GLORY GLORY.

...

I fall asleep.

I feel his hands wrap around my ankles and I squeal like a prized pig. He then locks his grip onto my knee caps, and I shiver...

I jerk awake, and lay back down thinking of how he would have called me Jazzy.

...

I walk the halls of our home and try not to cry, cry about loss, cry about wanting more.

Sh*t I don't know what I'm supposed to do about Carl. I loved him, but I was never a fit parent.

I love Cambodia, but is this the right place to raise a child? no.

oh well.