This morning's rumbling train from Heaven sent:
Now words are my salvation.

A tightness in the mind, the waist.
But also freedom of a voice to say I care.

For many faces near, but known not kin.
Their contrasts trace a line of thought
To you.

New smoothness of a plastic place
Rough words do good to shake, to shake -
And give the world a grain again.

I cannot find nor want to yet,  our
Dwelling in an archived hall of thought
However sweet.

No - I will seek for now, and to the end -
The always newfound world
Of any two that find a voice.
And meet.