This here rain drip
cleans the wounds of hearts so tender
damage-shattered
by words of illusion
– the one tender hearts are prone to believe.
Come back, then
pieces bleeding at the seams
to be replaced
and / or forgotten.
Sweet,
surrender then
to the wounds tender hearts yearn to believe in
the rain drip-dripping in vessels which carry
truthful devotion
the one tender hearts ought to believe in.
Notes From Afar 