Sunday would knock on our window pane - repeatedly.
once
  twice
     thrice

once -
sneaking out of her place
in the weekly schedule,
Sunday tip toes,
t i p p y t o e s,
into the bedroom -
she sees a troll's rule
on the floor,
almost picks up a broom,
but then lets go.

twice -
creeping into the kitchen
now - takeout pizza on the counter,
unimaginable amounts of sugar,
a pile of dishes flowing like
a fountain -
the chaos seems to amaze her.

thrice -
we've woken up, so she
skirts the living room walls.
as I untangle my arms from your hair
she sees your eyes rise to me-
then fall.

*"Five more minutes?"