Even my fingers don’t want to travel out from under sleep,
but
then...
CLICK.
They must.
Good morning in singsong with promises of breakfast,
wrestle away my resistance and successfully turn down my blanket.
An offering of cold clothes by warm hands, morning hugs and…
I am awake.
Lazily placing each foot in front of the other I navigate
the fog of the early morning.
Shhwoooop.
Shhwoooop.
Shhwoooop.
The chill of the house pins against my skin until…
Stomp.
Skkrreeettchhh.
Plop.
I celebrate awake in smooth,
luxurious,
velvety sweetness.
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