Between When I look up, I see infinite iterations. And then my heart is free to fill the sky. When I look down, I see a world made small and mean by hate and fear, where I cannot move or touch. I will not share a photo of down. Down is your windowless bedroom and bathroom, beside the railway and the endless earthquake of trucks. There is a world between us but we both may hear the birds. Song of the Birds What a paradox, to feel connected and belonging to the sky and cut off so completely from the earth. I have a home and must cover my face…