You are the rain

driving me back to shelter
beneath the windshield of a
car that rightfully should not belong
to me, the drops that fall
from a sunny sky; you are like the dreams
that cling half-remembered
to my fingertips and poison my breakfast;
you found me walking in an oil slick, you
lanced the blisters on my heel,
my love, & is it wrong to enjoy living
in this aching world?