Perfect Petrichor

there are certain evenings
when exiting the subway station
or getting out of a car
after a long afternoon drive,
when the sun is setting
and rain is coming
and the world smells so good. 

The sky is a mix of pink
and dangerous dark blue hues,
colliding violently like life
and smelling like iron and blood
and making me feel real,
like I want to meet the horizon. 

I wish all exit moments
could be like these,
but it is a perfect mix
of long days, travel, tiredness,
and nostalgia and lost love
that creates this ethereal cocktail
so nice before real night.