this place you find
yourself in, where
you stand with key
in hand, and pockets
empty from the night's
mischief, is vacant,
just a bed, a phone,
a place to sleep
and go on to the next
day. everything is
just as it was six hours
ago when you left. you
hesitate before
going inside to dream.
taken off guard by
a soft sigh of warm
wind, the first true
kiss of summer. so you
stand there and wait,
you take off your shoes,
you inhale, you exhale.
what time it is no
long matters.