HOSTEL BEDSCAPES

A tangle of sheets and neon lit pillows, a pencil of fire creeps through a curtain. My boots tucked under and another night passes. Green mattresses, yellow walls, seven beds and five languages spoken – in sleep and dreams. Stacked allotments. Boston, El Paso, Flagstaff. A cotton land in which to drift and a boulder to rest my head.

Advertisements

So, what do you think?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s