Member-only story
The Revisitation
What happens when you return to an old place?(A Poem)
The office has a few lights and a microwave.
Smelled of Pine Sol —
Behind the front desk
She was curly haired–helpful
Your room:
A square desk where you typed stories, a whirring AC unit, and one bed for him and you.
You ate there.
Laptop in laps, you anime’d, Netflix’d, Prime’d there. Made love there, next to heavy
Grandmother curtains.
Daylight revealed skinny telephone poles that double dutched lines like colossal Athenas, a burnt orange sunset hangs on a lazy afternoon as the cries of a whore’s pleasure
Shake the wall next door.
36 months…
36 months and the rapport
You’ve built here is a cold handshake
A twin room with twin beds(not King size), boards where the cabinets should be
Dilapidated.
And do you smell that? It’s mold.
Did you really expect a perfumed entrance?
Did you not expect that at night while you piss, a set of six eyes would be your voyeur right beneath the porcelain?
