Two-meter corridor framed by encroaching ceiling,
grime-streaked bricks of once-white pillars on the right,
dim-lit concrete floor underfoot, distinctly squelchy,
lathered with a millimeter of mud and sweat.
Stifled night drafts stir, disturbed,
by the threat of insidious humidity.
On the left, faint whisperings of revelry
escape from the tangle of choking throes
of grinding, grey-grilled gates.

Lying on my side in bed
Listening
To the sporadic hum of air-conditioner
Out of sight.
Shuffling my legs under the covers
Looking
At filtered glow seeping through
Soft, thin-veiled curtains
Ethereal cobwebs dyed in silver.
I cross the floor and part them
Ever so slightly
For the cold warmth to fall just upon
The edge of the bed.
Pillow-view periscopes
From vantage point
Blurred fluorescence
Against expanse of night.