Anachronistic Chameleon

I dissolved into the wind and reddened into the sunset – the city was me and I Delhi.

Until it became hard to tell the date or the year.

I heard his voice and turned around
almost like a reflex,
knowing he was far away,
but unable to resist the urge to see the face the voice belonged to.

Woolly fingers reached out to me
and I said, “Why me?”

I am timeless in the same way one is homeless.

My very dreams are disjointed
like (the song that sings of
a feather) that sings of
a song