This is why we like hotels.

They’re clean,

And they, mysteriously, clean themselves.

There is a big comfy bed

As a centerpiece by the window.

If you have a balcony door 

That you can open,

The floor length curtains blow,

Like an evening dress

That waltzes mysteriously by itself,

Like my daydreams of love

In a heavenly place,

Where I, for once,

Am someone’s lovely centerpiece.

And if I have a belfry,

There are surely bats in it,

That fly as the glory bells ring.

-jenn