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Hotel Jacuzzi

by Ally Joehanson

The rural hustle of I-83 Bustling on the other side of the glass. They could not see us, but we could see them As the hurriedly flew past.

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A room with a luxury Which we did not request But here it was in the middle of Our carpet floor, a plastic stool On the side of the pool, Tile and stained white liner.

Cold ceramic, we came to love Over the next three days. We made it a place of utility, Of excitement, of sorrow A refuge.

Our memories now written into The sides, most of them unable to be Wiped away with bleach. Our hotel jacuzzi, In the Comfort Inn.

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