294/ July 16, 2011 - Hotel Rooms, 2

I like the lightness of these unfamiliar blankets, the scent of white sheets, and the unrelenting indulgence of these pillows pliant to dreams. I swim in the endearment of this foreign place. 

I remember how I felt the first time I climbed the shore of your bed. I felt light and unrelenting as you were indulgent, pliant to desire.

And I paddle away from this thought with the force of a coming tide. There is a reason I rest better in hotel beds. I choose places that do not know me yet. I fall into the clutches of sleep with calm and ease knowing I am suspended from the present, and that this is a place where history forgets who I am.

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