Day 16 of #the100dayproject

Hibernation

It is hard to untangle my limbs from yours.
The morning weighs heavier than our comforter
and the sun is not the sun, but a diffused gray
like fluorescents flickering through shuttered blinds.
I do not want to move, but I move, my feet touch
the floor in a shuffle of warm skin on cold hardwood.
I am always the first up and the heat must be turned on,
the coffee made, the toilet flushed, the naked body
weighed on the scale. I am too much of myself.
I will not relent, but I want to crawl back into bed
and only weigh the same as the air between cover
and sheet, slip my feet beneath the mass of down,
hide my head until like a fever, the clouds break,
until winter breaks, until the world is worthy
of my presence and the sun shines through the window
perspiring my forehead and the slope of my upper lip.