I think tomorrow I'll clean up. Wash the dishes, fold these blankets, put the things away. I'll do my chores, lift and pour, shine the floor once more. I think tomorrow I'll get up, wipe up the sticky I spilt with my wobbling hand the day before. I'll open the curtains, turn on a song and move around just a bit. I'll vacuum the rug, clean the mirros, maybe I'll sage too and purify this air keeping me living. I won't do it now. No, for now it's all just fine, it's all okay this mess of mine. I'll let it be sit here, still and help my body release.
