She left me everything
She left me all her things
I wake up on the floor of my hotel room, I'm floating free now.
I can't remember what city I'm in. I get up and go to the bathroom..yes
there it is, hotel soap- Detroit, here I am.
The white bathmat, the silver fixtures, the green tile.
I'll send email to mother in the morning, I'll sit in a wooden chair with
leather upholstry.
Exhausted, my words will also be wooden, but I won't describe
this bathroom....the chair... or the computer I'm using.
It's just material. We're past that.
We see it but its already gone. Wish I could go back to sleep,
that immaterial dream is starting to make some sense, it's starting to look
like freedom.
