We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another.

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We are all living in our own feces.

Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
Red and yellow then came to be,
reaching out to me, lets me see.
There is so much more and it beckons me to look though to these,
infinite possibilities.
As below so above and beyond I imagine,
drawn outside the lines of reason.
Push the envelope. Watch it bend.

We are each of us angels with only one wing, and we can only fly by embracing one another.

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We are all living in our own feces.