A Poem for S.

The soft warm bundle you are when sleep has
come in its big way. Pressed into the
expanse of my chest. Furrowing towards the
cage, pressing me across the narrow expanse
of bed into the cool white wall. You are 
quickly tied into the sheets, bare flanks
loose and calm and exquisite under morning's 
glow through closed blinds. In sleep, you
are luxurious and your skin radiates. Even 
in sleep, you home in on my body heat. I 
often wake cold and naked, your shiny dolphin 
form wrapped tightly in cool sheets -- the 
duvet in a pool across your shapely hips. In 
sleep you consume sheets and blankets, and 
even with my thick winter coat and beard, I 
wake, an extension of you, pressed against 
the white stone wall.