I need a nap

Fuzzy-headed and clouded with oversleeping, my thoughts are vague but my desires are clear. Comfort is first on my mind. Soothing sensations: warmth, cloth, skin; they caress my addled psyche. I cannot help but daydream about these things.  I can’t help but wonder. What is wrong with a little idle fantasy? It’s like the nip of coffee or the bite of nicotine in the way it lights up synapses. It rouses and placates even if it doesn’t satiate. If I want to spend my moments imagining the soft scrape of sheets against flesh, or my face pressed into a pillow, surely that is my prerogative. If I wish to picture myself stretching, my back arched and toes pointed, my body pressing against blankets, who is to question? If I breathe out a sigh as I consider how cozy I’d like to be, curled up like a kitten so soft and sweet, who is to blame me? Better for them to imagine the same. Snuggled close with feet intertwined and soft breath from soft lips tickling the neck, sleep could come for us both.


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