in my belly,
then along the
spine, a touch in 
the collar,and a grip 
pulling me in to a cosy 
envelope of the spoon,forming.
Sticky eyes open, one at a time, taking in the faint gray, seeping in through
the half open blinds.
The lids shut again,both this time.
A half slumber, a light head
The taste and the slight press.
Happy Sunday.

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