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My conviction that what I’m saying makes sense is powerful. I am quite full of myself. And rightly so. I really make an effort. When I speak nonsense, it’s always on purpose. The baby listens to me, no matter what I choose to talk about. Sometimes he responds with something I don’t understand.  Or he’ll pucker his lips. Or turn his hand. I, at any rate, never do anything that might negatively affect our conversation. When you’re silent, I tell him, you’re not really silent. When you make a sound, like the one you just made, you’re not making a sound. Your language is the language of your body. I think there’s something undivided in you that is divided in me. I can speak as if I had no body, as if I could speak without my body. My speech is like thought. I only think that I speak. Here the baby interrupts me. Glances sideways. I too glance sideways.