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i was wrapped in pregnant thought for for 15 months. rather a long gestation period you'd say. and then i gave birth. to a form. it had little i could recognise. nothing an odinary parent would look for in an an odinary child. but i was abnormal. i had been pregnant for fifteen months, see. so in that package, i looked for form. sure- it was right there. a form. whatever that may have been. it was quiet crazy. it was had sharp turns and was twisted where you'd least expect it to be. so i tried to figure out a semblance to this twist that would connect it to my day and life. perhaps a mauled up tyre of a crashed bike.perhaps something not so morbid.entangled in thought, entangled in a passionate kiss, maybe entangled in a heap of mud- growing roots. i had given birth to imagination. my baby would never know his shape.he would draw upon one. he'd decide what he was.whatever he liked to be. and once he has done that, he'd feel happy. and some part of his shape will change. this would be to all who care, a smile. his very own.and most beautiful.
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