I thought, laying with my paramour,
How can I trust you in 2019?
The roof of the hotel shone pearly
White, like doves or cocaine.
My lover, I kiss
Anyhow, as if I hadn’t been
Fucked over before.
Nearby, a handsome
Bellhop looked through me
I looked back,
Feeling as empty as his stare.
The guest of the hotel wore ocean blue.
The black hands of the concierge waved at me,
Knowing I felt alone in Greenwich Village.
O wait, I was in the Chateau Marmont now.
I stumbled through the lobby,
Running into things and people.
Somewhere a tourist rolled a blunt
Pleasure, not trust, would fill him.