monday

twitching paws,
snoring.
the scent of arabica
still warm in a garage sale mug.
a gift, from my beloved—
hinted with a splash of milk.

the percale sheets are
slightly chilled against
my freshly-shaven calves.
yawning, my eyes water.

i’ll have to pee soon.
but i crack my journal
to write this instead.
a reminder that
these sensations exist
and for now,
i can be with them.