When the night sky folded up with his stars

the moon and the light that came with him,

I was upset truly, and was vexed at his audacity

to get me to dream and then to hide the stars

show a sky barren of shiny titbits of sparkles

instead filled with fluffy clouds floating by

It was the night sky that talked to me in my dreams

made me step out of my skin and dance till twilight

made me weary with a headiness of an ethereal kind

a certain fuzziness filling my lungs

a certain craze that knew not where it came from

and how it disappeared with the morning sky

so we quarreled, the night sky and I

for dreams that looked too far too unreal

in the bright day light and the fierce clarity it brought

‘its impossible to dream, much less to live, in this sparkling brightness

a little yellow light of the night is what gives me space to be myself

no, its not a case of jekyll and hyde, I explained

noticing his smirk and sly eye movements’

He, however, was not annoyed, wondering perhaps of wasted

sentiments, and fixed emotions, being lousy, charming, unkind

all at once, he simply said, ‘Just be yourself. It’s about time you did’.

Well! that was that.

PS: a little fuzziness is a good thing, sometimes