The best rain
Is the rain touching somebody
who's been stuck in bed for over a month
pouring through the open window

pouring right into her heart

Sometimes I think my hand and heart come together in dark corners to have hushed conversations about what to write.
Brain intercedes to tell them they can't do it without him and he should always be consulted.
Heart and hand run away when brain's not looking and write the first thing they can think of.
Full of themselves, they saunter back into the room to show brain their work and stare upon the page in dismay - this was not what they had imagined!! Somehow the meaning has got lost in translation.
Brain looks on smugly 'told you. You should've consulted me'
Hand and heart are suitably chastised.

I have been chasing you
for so long
that I have scraped my knees
on the curb of eternity.

Her perfumed essence
  still fragrances the air
         in her absence