The church bells crooned sadly at 1.40 am.

I stood by the window where condensation had formed,

and I wrote my name with fleshy fingertips.

Through faulty letters invaded the moon, lingering,

like an abandoned animal too blind to know where to go.

Opposite, shadows groped in a darkened space and

lay down together upon a bare mattress.

Down the resting street cried an ambulance, it came and passed by

before I had time to notice

that it’s sides were yellow and dirty, stained by sombre puddles

that it flung onto the pavement.

I retreated, the carpet old and worn beneath my toes.

I lay down on my bed and as I closed my eyes

eyelashes thick with mascara pawed at my cheeks,

and across the street the shadows groaned and writhed

together, in a room containing only a mattress,

and a hanging bulb that died long ago.



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