The hotel room is comfortable and modern.
It is clean and kept and made for a moment.
The flat screen blathers, the wind of the wasteland on a wire.
My suitcase has colonized an alien world.
The shaving kit outpost is established.
The midden of dirty socks and underwear grows.
We forage at the breakfast buffet.
The pool teems with squeal-otters.
Our instruments detect free wi-fi and coffee in abundance.
No matter where we travel,
my home is where she is,
my heart is where she keeps it,
my feet run to her,
my hands are holding her.
I stretch myself out at her side.
Sleep comes with her breathing in my ear,
and I am home.