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  • the first time you expressed yourself to me, I mean really told me that your little baby soul was in there ... I was nursing you, like I did so many times a day. not too many times, but so many times. in those days you always laid like a lump in my arms. a beautiful warm lump with an overwhelming desire to feed.

    but this time ...

    while your lumpularity persisted in my view ...

    I felt the tiniest scratch under my arm ...

    your little fist opening and little fingers digging at my shirt. dragging along the fabric, no more than a centimeter I'd bet. little fingernails we had to bite to clip, else risk severing your infinitesimal fingertips. little fingernails that grow like weeds on you.

    I think you liked the sound and the sensation. your asiatic eyes took on a new, focused look, and I swear your ears perked like a dog's.
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