Miracle the birth. Repeatable. Done everyday. Sweet. Like the countless hugs it shares in time. No obligation. River flows its love. The bed overflows with it. The words are lost in the view of a smile that carries all the words of the world. You gorge it greedily. You want more. You are reaching a human end. Without being prepared. How does the miracle end?
A strange picture. The last one. Lifeless. Does not find a place in you. Your place is your memory. Tied by the umbilical cord. Your silence burns full of pictures. A glance. High in the sky.
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