By Shadygirl*** fading_shade@hotmail.com
Date: 10 November 1998

Sunday Mornings

You take up too much of the bed.
Legs stretched out in dreamy stride.
Blankets and sheets wrapped around 
your torso and mine,
gripping and tugging in all the wrong places.
The room is too cold.
Your body is too warm.
Your breath is tickling the back of my neck.
The sunlight has reached the horizon,
and my morning eyes.
I squint trying to find the land I just left.
Your bear arm reaches around me
squeezing my waist in your sleep 
uncomfortably
and I realize…
I would not give up 
Sunday mornings
for anything.