this place shelters (un)sheltered bodies
I shamelessly carry my nakedness around as if my skin savors under heavy woolen coats
Yes, but what choice do I have, what choice do any of us have?
is it not here that one must seek cover
to brush off the unfriendliness of its fast changing weather?
cover, my dear
there is a no resting place elsewhere
A stomach that gets too full and wanders for hunger is not a stomach that needs to be fed.
all the beds are broken
so I go where
I can exist between different worlds
if hunger ever comes knocking at this door, let him find himself something
in this sheltered body
To lie on