My Room

The intermingling scents
lend an interesting sense
of understanding to the knowledge
about the dweller of this space
-this room-
with its faint sweet aroma of dead lilies,
the strong smell of burnt sage
and a hint of sex.

The pictures depict
a happiness
that you may wonder if she could truly possess
as a wanderer
a backslider and a jobless kitten;
But the dumpster kitty sails that sea
of voluntary poverty
and finds that she is truly a wealthy witch
as those
on Skid Row would know:
Those without a room,
without a partner,
without happy pictures or a loaned bicycle.

How did this wanderer land this luck,
this love,
this sense of purpose,
in a land of unloved, lost and broken souls
abused by the system and unwanted by society?

This room, yes, my room,
tells a story,
a story that many can't tell;
yet all should be able, one day,
to share.