In consideration of “me”, my body faces the direction of Blue, tȟoyéla; the color of an enormous sky ocean mirroring the color of waters, quaffing reflected gourmet greens but excluding putrid pollutions. My body with its organ eyes, stomach fed by a chorus of plants, embraces melodious infusions and hums along until a disharmony collides into it. The heart is not an organ but embraces the sloshes of the belly intelligence splash ; heart distributing sustenance way more than the arrogantly yellow brain staring backwards from the rear. When the wind swooshes, I’m precocious to the echo of Thunder Being drums.

Organize implies awareness like a deck of cards that needs me to flip their faces uniformly. I pick up the scattered ones, unbend folded corners, and even divine decks as yet unseen. Pretending I know how, I hope that careful shuffling will teach me something.