Sometimes my thoughts slide off of my unrestrained 

tongue like a blood draw. But who’s to say I’m 

wrong for speaking what I think? After all, the brain is a friend, 

a so-called helper, the way sun helps snow,

the way imagination helps reality,

or maybe it’s the other way around.

The brain is still a friend. My tongue is still my tongue.

There is no such thing as a wrong thought,

so I’ll stick to thinking out loud.