sun-day ...

I could claim that
I do not love you ... yet

I could say to gut deep stand in
crazy debris, mine and others’
(is there any difference?)
hardly hurts at all,
but then i would be lying.

Hidden sun shines rain to road
I just need to find it
in myself

not in growling heart's projection
or white space gasp
between
the dead and dying
metaphors still bleeding
road-kill tales on melting tarmac

dreams and so, for shine's sake,
I do not blame the rain for
loving you ... now