I need space baby. His tone is serious.
I look up on him. His eyes is sparkling with humour and he makes a telling gesture. I need space baby. Ah, I start to laugh. My body is displayed all over the couch. He actually need space to lay down beside me.
Getting to know him. His story. His life. His nervous system. Habits. Patterns. Wounds. Humour. Care. He is child like and yet so masculine. And this little scenario still make me smile.
I need space baby. Space to hold you close. My sweet baby girl. I love you.
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