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.