Psyche-

     S*r**s Dear. This is our first trime together. A rough start. Unexpectedly. Caught off guard. Mommy had no plans yet but I have to keep you.       All our first time. You are the first to try Mommy's womb. Everything for Mommy was all so frantically scary first-time. Mommy is at odds with the circumstances so Mommy, S*r**s dear, is panicking. She cries on her shoulders when no one hears, releases the feeling  of lonesomeness in the dark. You've got to bear with Mommy.      But she is joyous to have you. She'll get over about everything bothering her at the moment.       Mommy loves you. You are staying with Mommy...      

      I rushed from work thru the traffic late at night to chance on your nearness. Because we are sisters.      Don't mention,                      by blood.      You left your peers in the midst of social's night and pound the pavement with your three-inch pumps that you took off to get to me faster. And we met in a convenience store (thanks for its famed name we used as landmark ) in your blackened soles. You greeted me how skinny I was, even skinnier the last time you saw me. We exited ourselves, with our hands clasped together, and looked for the nearest fastfood (sorry health but we aftered for for the fastness of food service).            Chats. Chats. Chats.      The darkness in a quick passing budded into a farewell morning. You paid (with your student allowance from father) us our breakfast fastly eaten as we could over ...