I just want to roll over and see you sleeping in a tight ball, relegated, sheetless and shivering, to the precipice of our too-small bed by my spread eagle slumber. I want to melt into the angles of your back and knees. Breathe in the cold skin between your shoulder blades. I want to wake you with selfish kisses. Feel you stir beneath my lips. You will rouse for just a moment. Only to pull me closer. But that will be enough and I will fall asleep again in the curve of your neck. I want to sleep like this. Entwined at the edge of our bed, about to fall, but holding on.