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Within White Monuments

Trust me, right now I’m in a waiting room, waiting for a meeting and have been doing so for almost an hour. The room is painted white, completely white, with even the floors and the ceiling the same color. The absence of color. There’s nothing else in this room aside from me and the chair I’m sitting on which, to be fair, is quite comfortable. It’s easy to close my eyes and forget, lost in this nothingness. It’s easy to close my eyes and imagine I’m inside some marble monument— the same as how I thought when I was a kid, wandering through the streets of the Durbar Square, or through Minnesotan museums, looking at all the statues, so alive, wondering if people were trapped within, wondering if they were trapped, hiding or maybe just resting.

Poetry by Sameen