Let me listen to you ramble until I can see into your soul 

We are tuesday people. - Mitch Albom

Ramble.

That’s how we find our way out.

We ramble.

I ramble.

I create palisades of

alabaster, sundered low

by seraphims adorned in bricks.

I let the words puncture

my epidermis, and illuminate

forebears incidental to

my own creation.

In my blubbering to keep

track of my tongue,

I bring faerie realms

to my rotten eye

and raise the octave

of how their names are said.

My rambling words control

1. They reward me. I obey

them. I confuse them.

They crash continents

They break breakfast

They appall animation.

My rambling,

Your ramblings,

They’re rambling. 

We strike the air like a clap 

of blunder; and in the quiet

hereafter,

as we examine are purple

bruised elbows. We find that

Words 

Mean more to us,

Than we do to them.