A mi casito

Rise and struggle my eyelids to open to the distant of the trolleys.

A slight, below average breezes through against the satin curtains.

I'm thirty-one stories high.

Five suitcases flung open lying on the Marriot scented carpet.

No worries.

The breeze threw against my face.

I breathe in the piers & bayous air.

No worries.

This time , I'm not afraid of being so high.

All I care for is that I might as well land into the homeless cup.

I don't mind falling into the street performance of this busy streetlife.