winning.

I sleep with my door open because I don't care. It's a bright mellow morning. Ass half covered in sheet slowly melting into my body. A serpent in my sleep. I don't care if the sun calls my attention each fifteen minutes with a lazy gaze. The sheets are too inviting. I float atop a cloud, a dream, a simmer of morning in each sinking exhale. At times I dream I rise to you. A bareback shielding each long lash from the croaking sun. It's a shape I've come to like, love in fact. Each finger urges to touch, to scale but are incapable. My eyes have betrayed and not woken from their gluttonous sleep. I awake to what I knew all along. The sun and I are pals this morning and share it wrapped in clouds and sheets and dreams. Nothing but air can keep me here.