privileged and dismissed.
the beige of the spectrum,
clothed in a flimsy dress
peeling off my hips
in a mint-walled motel.
matte irises examining the dingy sheets
where I sink,
saturated by sweaty palms
and the mildewed ceiling
is crumbling around us
at every tremor of the mattress.
we evaporate
into the musty air,
mingling with the mists
of the hourly guests before us.

and maybe I sauntered
from that room
a little rosier than before.
maybe I left there
a few shades darker.