Goodbye to Room 1116

Goodbye to sheets whiter than anything
I will ever know in my own home.
Sweet goodbye to the tiny coffee maker
with its one cup setting
burbling,
This cup is only, only, only
for you. Goodbye
to four walls that protected me
from any daughter asking
for juice. Goodbye to the remote
that I actually controlled.
Goodbye to shampoo and conditioners
and their unconditional love:
the more I took the more they gave.
Goodbye to nature prints
telling their small jokes
above this urban landscape. Goodbye
to towels and to more wash cloths
than I could use in a month,
so beautifully folded in fans
I hesitated to use them at all.
Goodbye to the grim and disgruntled
King James, still waiting for me
to open his drawer. Goodbye to pay-for-view
and adult entertainment,
though I was too shy
for either of you,
just knowing I could, was enough.
Goodbye 1116
and though you will quite possibly
never ever open your door to me again,
I will carry your plastic key
a symbol of your complete if brief
love for me.