Bigger on the inside

I like these spaces in art galleries,
the air con pumping, the room bare
of bodies. The air con pumping,
wood and acrylic gleam and shoes
thud, shuffle on the varnished cement.
Voices like warm breaths diffuse into the air.
Outside, buildings push away
the sky and streets are made of
feet, but in here
I have room to dawdle and dream.