The world, my lover, unkind

It sticks with me, I don’t know why;
The sight of him hunched,
getting out of his car.
I rose from inside mine, shook the extended claw,
old man hand.
We walked to the apartment, inside.
It smelled like monkey piss,
as if in territorial marking, one had
covered floors and walls...
He was allright, the old guy,
sweet, softspoken, nice to a flaw,
desperate to rent it, to finish life.
I kept my poker face and walked
every room with him, looked left and right.
His face, his caving face, so soft...
I left the monkey piss apartment behind me
that no one would rent, no one at all.
The world, my lover, unkind,
slid its arms back around me
as I drove away.