Day 8

I go into my room

Prop my knees up 

to make mountains

Rest my rib cage

to make a graveyard 

for all the thoughts that

do not serve me.

Let them sink

To the ocean floor of my 

belly, at the bottom of each exhale. 

Celebrate there passing

with a pause.

Then return, bringing in

the next portion

my share of imagination.

Say, thoughts are imagined

before spoken 

So speak slowly.