Inside, a small bed, white sheets over tough mattress.
A layer of what used to be pale yellow
on rough concrete walls.
Inside, exposed beams on ceiling, pointing
to open window, sills decorated
with smudges of his last cigarette last night,
and this morning’s shit from pigeons (temporary roommates,
they’ve already gone.)
Outside, busy footsteps on pavement,
hands hailing cabs;
small talk, conversations,
Outside, a city of strangers,
unknown, unnamed, unexplored.