“As I lose, I gain,” Angelou said. “I wing home to a place long forgotten. I swell as I recede, taking in all that has come before me. I molt. I shed. I diminish. But I feel no loss for I am free. My song slips its long confinement and joins the celestial roar. I was made of water, now I am air. I lose as I gain, but again I lose. I lose. I lose.”
And this is why I love the onion.