sweet chimera

i had once wished for a day to be like the rain out there - i was on the train gliding through the silver falling gauze. i loved that particular rainfall; beneath the smoken sky it was pellucid, expectant, here to stay. and for it to stay i wished. i wished not to arrive at my destination, for beyond the trellised windows held a sweet chimera. it was a surreal sight where i could see where i never was, and i felt light, felt like a traveller on a foreign land, felt like it didn't matter where i ended up as long as my heart eventually led me home.

only that destination up-ended and dented destiny.

that was in january, a month where new hopes for a moulted life are triggered like fireworks to sparkle the raven stubborn sky. and after the fierce few seconds what then? what else but the return of the night. just as not all dark need light, not all time need be present. my time sank, my time vanished, and april came. how do i feel now? why did i imagine things would be different simply because time had passed? there were moments i thought i hated you. i thought i ought to. then again, who was i angry with but myself? self-acrimony, the most lethal dose of anger, garoting me from within; the dormant pain, of injury, of anger, the strains of indignance rising like a dark tchaikovsky.

couldn't you love me for more than a night?

one more night. how tempting. how innocent. what difference could it make, one more night?

couldn't we change our hearts the way we change our nights?