How to be light

a single bulb

hangs

from the ceiling.

these shadows cross it

as if whispering “here,

this is how to be light.”

there’s two towels

hooked on the door

and a stained mattress

that lies on the floor

and there’s a small

team of bugs at the

window; they throw

little bodies at glass

in pursuit of a flickering

lamp, and if I could speak

in bug, I would tell them

it doesn’t feel like home

in here either:

I would say,

the light is not always

where you want to end up.