First, we put our finger in our own eyes and mouth, then in the eyes and mouth of someone else, but in the hands of a cloth, which clings to our hands; it's glove, so we don't hurt ourselves.
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After watching each detail of that first and short touch on our body, we do not look at the same carefully again in the mirror or in the bathroom.
And we are stepping into life; There is a constant event on our heads, and as they grow, things are starting to get out of hand. What do I do when I'm sad, what do I do, what makes me angry?
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We cannot ask questions about my endless curiosity, my passion against what we have because we do not know that these are to feel.
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