Sleeping Late

It isn't enough to pull the covers up near my chin
on a night where we leave the lights off
and turn down the heat.

Flannel so soft and almost feathers
on cool skin tucks me in
like some ghost of a father
or mother who kisses us on our forehead,

"Nighty, night. Sleep tight. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

I want to sleep late,
with out care
or wondering what time it is.

I want to sleep late
until my bones don't ache
and my eyes are surprised at the day.

I want to sleep late,
drink coffee in bed with my book,
shower after stretching, slip into socks,
not shoes, and then nap,

all afternoon.