They say you don’t understand my smiles or sighs yet, or when I babble baby talk to you because I feel like it. I think they’re wrong. What do they know of the contented whispered laughs you make in your sleep and your nano second mischievous, toothless smiles? Would you breathe so peacefully if you didn't know you were loved so much? The language you speak isn’t what tongues utter and minds process, it is the language of the heart. And I think you understand me perfectly.