I cloned myself, loved my firsts and feared the lasts, this fetus in the blanket-womb, who will learn me and know my ways, exactly like a water-image only washed into the softness of liquid -- I will like everything he does. Unlike a mute man who claims no language to be his own, his pains will be said.
Baby, dreams are never complete for they neither have a beginning nor an end. Do not wish too hard for dreams slip away quickly
