Can We Just Stay In Bed Today?

It’s Sunday again.  That seems to happen every week.  Funny how that works.

But it is Sunday.  I don’t ever wake up before you.  Not usually anyways.  I even caught the alarm and shut it down before it squawked.  I just want to lay in that hazy, start the week off right feeling under warm sheets and blankets with you.  I hope you won’t mind.

Can we just lay here?  You and I?  I don’t think the world needs us today and even if it does I think it can get along without us.
If you know magic, can you cast a spell?  Some hocus pocus, make us disappear out of focus.  I think we can slip through the cracks of reality and hide out in the in between.

You’re asleep still.  I think I fell asleep before you last night.  You sent me off right.  Now I’m here in the morning waiting for your eyes to open wondering if that smile’s going to flash when you’re finally awoken.
I love those teeth.  When I see them something good is going to happen.  Even if its in the morning, unbrushed and with overnight breath.  I don’t care.  Give me some of that dragon fire down my neck.

You know I can’t resist you.  Sometimes I wish you didn’t.  Maybe you don’t?  If you ever did fully realize you’d know that you can get me to do anything you want.  I’d be your puppet without any power just trying to get that smile to show up again.  Those perfect teeth in that flawless smile.

My fingers never could wait that long.  Soon they’ll be on you.  Starting with a trace along your shoulder.  The exposed skin out from the sheets.  They’ll trickle along their way to your neck and to the other side.  If I’m lucky I’ll get a shiver out of you.  That’s always the goal, to make your body quake uncontrollably and send vibrations down to your toes.
I’m selfish.  I’m only doing it to wake you up.  To cause you to stir and stretch, and when that first long stretch is out of the way I’ll envelope you with my arms and pull your naked skin against mine.  We’ll wrap up like a pretzel and go on with our morning in bed.  Holding out hope that the real world can’t pick locks or see through dimensions.

If only it would last another minute longer.  Every minute in bed with you is like a battery charge.  Every time we wrap up together in limbs and lips I can go on again until the next time.
So throw your leg over my waist.  Rest your head on my shoulder.  Put your hair in my face, while my hands move a bit bolder.  I’m not letting you out of bed so easily this Sunday morning, babe.