The room in the eaves

After two turns of the key, I gently push open the door to satisfy my curiosity and impatience.
I feel like I'm entering the private space of those who have used this room before me.
And very quickly, like them, I make myself at home.
I stay holed up there for several hours, to get the feel of the place.

Lying on the bed, I lose myself in the clouds that fly over my head and brush
against the Paris rooftops with a light weakness, just as you would lightly touch
someone's beautiful silky skin with the back of your hand.