hotel rooms

i earnestly forget what sunlight on skin feels like on mornings i wake up bleeding on 100% cotton hotel bed sheets. there's a certain kind of motion i go through during these situations to avoid shifting through the motions of post-coital satisfaction, like opening the curtains as slowly as the night began, running a bath and examining any changes in my body, calling up the bellman for tea, and blindly searching for a thing, there's always a thing that fell under the bed, no matter how meticulous i had tried to be.

i never sleep beside you but my sleep always takes me to you.