Plain

Ewan Seymour

The hotels inhale you in,  

The Earth drinks you up.  

From raw triumph, you are still the same  

And you’re with me now,  

Outside of my space of comfort  

To linger in indifference made of safe realities   

Is it dark where I am?  

Have the objects remained?  

Does it make me sad that I’m so plain?  

In my brightest second  

You drop truth’s ice and I can ignore  

The sky unbothered in its bliss—  

Plain.