Not In Bed

A thing all writers know

 

I snuggle in close to her warmth.

Drawing from me the cold of too long idle in front of a screen; hands racing

the mind's lead to get every word as first imagined, and the turmoil of getting out of bed

to write this thought down.

More  company for the all too well felt hours, I’ve  missed of rest.

I could of known held in her arms.