Probably I didn’t say goodbye to you. In my heart deep inside you live still. And torture. Perhaps, I should just wipe the slate clean with tears profuse. Tears that I refused to part with. Believing, that you of all, was not worth it.
To a hotel room
I am most comfortable in hotel rooms. The room and I are strangers. We do not expect. We do not question. We are hospitable and friendly But will never belong to anyone. This is our fate. Our choice. Our curse.
