My ears hear what others cannot hear.Small,faraway things people cannot normally see r visible to me. These sense r the fruits of a lifetime of longing_Longing to be rescued, to be completed. Just as the skirt needs the wind to billow, I'm not formed by things that r of myself alone. I wear my father's belt around my mother's blouse. Shoes which r from my uncle. This is me.Just as a flower does not choose its colour, we r not responsible for what we hv come to be.Only once u realize this do u become free.