I Sleep Around

And it’s not for the sex

Dawin’s bedroom eyes, author photo

Some mornings I wake up not quite sure where I am.

A large, warm familiar weight is stretched out along the length of my curved back. Another smaller familiar weight is nestled into the crescent shape interior of my stomach. In between I can tell where I begin and end — I like that feeling, feeling both my front and back at the same time. Both familiar weights are…