This is my apartment for another nineteen days
it’s too hot to sleep
in this small room
people tell me the temperature in fahrenheit and I convert it to celsius on my phone
I leave my bedroom door open and turn on the fan at night
.
I think it’s important to find something sacred in your normal spaces, the everyday architecture of your life
it’s like when you visit a museum or a cathedral
the hush that comes over you as you feel so small but like there is so much significance in your presence, in your history, in the history of this place
I like these precious moments in my room, finding things hidden
the past things and the things we end up leaving behind
.
This is my third home in four months
there are holes in the wall from absent paintings or photographs hung in a previous tenancy, little punctuation marks; full stops
wavy brush strokes of mismatched paint
someone’s smudged fingerprints on the doorframe, a reminder of bodies that have slept where I am trying to sleep now
there is a tiny metal pin in the shape of an angel that landed on the floor as I moved a chest of drawers
it’s gold
and sharp, if I had stepped on it I would have hurt myself
but I heard it fall and so I put it back
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