A strange habit

I take an auto rickshaw into the city

i get down near the railway station

and get into a shady hotel

which is frequented by whores

and kids whose parents

won’t let them have sex

horny stilettoes who get themselves

into sticky situations

because the world compels them to

in any case, I rent a room

and lie in bed, the bedsheet lined

with blood, from disreputable sources

probably

the ceiling is slightly dark

as if something was burnt here

right under this very bed

it’s a mystery I haven’t figured out

as yet

but I still come to this hotel

every fortnight

hoping that this mystery never gets solved

and I can frequent this place

long enough for somebody to recognize me

and ruin me forever.

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