the hum of a fluorescent lamp
old, but
it still works

the creak of the bed
as I slide in

the whisper of a foreign room
and the breathing of a strange house
fill my ears

yellow light floods my vision
from the left
the wall, to the right
bears my shadow

I turn
try to catch a glimpse of me
but I am blurred
stretched
in this place
maybe
I am not myself.