A hotel room is a lonely place
when checking in for one.
Two unmistakable human imprints
remain on this mattress from years of use,
forcing my own body to awkwardly
find rest atop the mountainous middle
Lying in those valleys is too personal;
my shape coinciding with that of a stranger
who listened tenderly to the heavy breathing
and soft snores of a lover sound asleep beside them.
Feet intermingled and fingers laced together
under this same blanket that right now
crushes me and keeps me from sleep,
like your heavy arms around my body
when all I want is the corner of the bed to myself.
I thought I could find some peace and quiet from you
in this goddamn hotel room,
but as I lie amongst these ghosts
I realize that this space could not be further
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