I shall celebrate today,

Give myself a little breast-bone-rub,

With a side-dish of attitude

Involving that pouty-lip thing,

That we all tend to do when we dance.

Incidentally, what is that?

Is it a reflex?

A show of self-consciousness?

An involuntary ancestral come-hither for sexy-time?

Like, did cavemen do it?!

Anyway, I’m breast-bone-rubbed and pouty,

Smug as the most popular girl at school.

I’m delightedly, incredulously pain-free,

And the-other-thing-that-shall-not-be-named-

In-case-I-jinx-it free too!!

Today, I laughed and smiled and walked and wrote

and didn’t worry about eating and swam alone at dusk in velvet cool water, then cycled home slaloming around rabbits.

Today, for the 18th consecutive day,

After almost five years of WTF-is-happening-OMG-I’m-falling-to-pieces,

I’m intact.

I feel like ME.