The Physicality of Sleep

I want.
There is simplicity in the smooth slip of cotton along the length of my leg,
My palm rubbing the fur of my country squire belly,
The buttery smell of burning ceder.

It is night,
That perfect moment,
Wakening ends and sleeping begins,
Naked, and loving the touch of my shoulder,
My curved muscle.

The wet between my legs as I stretch top to bottom,
My cat purring swishy tailed,
In the crock of my knees,
My deflated down pillow cradling my head,
Just so.

And I want this minute,
To last.
And I want sleep,
With dreams.
And I want the salty smell of you,
Beside me.

About Avery Cassell

Avery Cassell is a queer butch San Francisco writer, poet, cartoonist, and artist who grew up in Iran.
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