Babies with Babies.

These girls arms are too small and fragile to be that of mothers. Their eyes are wild and never weary, they lack the experience and tenderness one would expect. Such small little arms, holding even smaller ones and all I can think about is a much lighted connection than what really is. These babies with babies, making their own decisions...I think about them a lot. Babies with babies...and where are the arms and eyes that held them? What happened to the developed voices that sang those babies with babies to bed, what happened to the big arms that tucked the babies with babies in? Ugh.