POEM - Room 421

I had a dream about our relationship

For whatever reason, you weren’t in it

A shrink tasked me with describing

what the room of our shared life

looked like,

but was displeased when all I gave

was a short list of positives

“The view is tremendous.

The door-lock is reliable.”

And a few other things in that vein

  

“You sound rather blind to the bad.” the shrink said

“And though your lack of length on the good says plenty…

I advise you to look a little closer.”

I didn’t want to

It seemed to me that love’s art

was forever being ruined

by people looking too closely at it;

taking its foundation of strengths for granted

But, being a dream, my closed eyes

were always open

  

Soon I was exiting a cab in an old part of town

The building before me was not a house,

but a hotel

The staff wouldn’t speak to me,

and the numbering of the doors

made no sense at all

I somehow knew which room I was looking for,

but it took hours of wandering to get there

The last place I’d have picked;

a narrow stairwell atop the tallest floor

And my sweaty hand shook

as I turned the key to go in

  

The sound of water dripping

onto vinyl tiling was the first thing to hit me;

it was coming from an overhead AC vent,

but there was also a duct-taped window unit

whirring away on the opposite wall

In the dim light, I strained for that view I’d spoken so highly of

—pretty much anything to keep my attention

away from that scent of a place

long and suddenly forgotten—

but it was difficult to even see stars

for all the gunk on the glass

  

A bed was the first thing I actually saw

once my eyes had adjusted;

that leaky, twin air mattress you used to

deal with in order to spend the whole night

holding my hand as I slept on the floor

The pillows were stained with your makeup;

the sheets, with our drunken swiving

-both may as well have been piss and shit

for all the unclean age they’d gathered

I collapsed onto that once-white leather sofa

we’d been gifted in our first apartment,

and cried at the drumming reminder in my mind

of the way that green ocean in your irises

always offered me their tide-like waves;

as though I was your sole satellite

I fuckin’ bawled until your perfume hit me

  

When I looked up, no you;

just the ugly walls you’d excused to be with me

in an ungodly number of random, rented rooms,

back when momentary privacy

was all we could afford

We’d play video games, and screw

until our paid-for time was up

I was always so sure I’d see you again that

my ignorance then was unadulterated bliss

To die in those days would have been to die happy

But, much to my relieved annoyance,

I was not so lucky

  

Your cough is what woke me

I sat straight up in bed, and felt cold sweat

drain out of my pores

“Is everything okay?”

Your voice, still gentle and reassuring

at 4:21 in the morning

“No.”

-my honest answer

“But I love you anyway.”

I waited over-long for a response

But you’d already fallen back to sleep;

at least, that’s what I keep telling myself

For it takes an unthinkable fool to doubt you

And, I mean, have we met?