Is it that deep within us, two modules collide, and what springs forth is something irreducible to either?

Is it that Angels and Demons have it out, and what gets through is either passible innocence or determined indiscretion?

Is it that we know what we want to say and intentionally sew it a cloak?

Is it that a hack is made and we say from suggestion what we never intended?

For the ignorant, there may be only one answer and always.

For the writer with a story to tell it is none of these, but rather a weave that touches many realities and still appears a single thread.