Angels can fly because they take themselves lightly.
If you could only know that even now upon your gentle lids live tiny mites who cling to your eyelashes as to a most glorious forest there at the roots of those great trunks they build their cities. And on your very skin a million teensy lives make this soft landscape their best home. Within your mouth you daily take in more, who ride your tongue like brave warriors with every word you speak. And others by the thousands transported on air enter the darkened tunnels of your nose and tremble nervously upon the cilia in your lungs which sways to rhythmic breathing. They befriend you all without prejudice of gender, race or religious affiliation.