What lesbians do in bed

Drink and spill many cups of strong tea.
Scrunch my eyes at the morning sun.
Scribble scribble and endlessly scribble.
Sleep over my laptop.
Paint my nails.
Shoo, shoo dog.
Devour books and more books.
Glare at the alarm.

Tweeze my chin, while watching re runs of the L-word,

the volume too low to be heard.

Swat the mosquito that nibbles my toe,

throw off the sheet in the unbearable heat.

Scratch my feet.

Think of what to eat.

Should I clean the room?

Go get the broom.

Let me make the bed,

this week’s sheets are red.

I admit that I thought that the subject was naughty,
until I start writing, not one line but forty (on life
and my thoughts and how nice it would be, if people
would stop looking funny at me…), but bed is my
favourite place out of all, and I probably spend too much time
in a sprawl of reading and sleeping and scribbling away,
awake through the night, half asleep half the day, cos I’m
thinking and dreaming and out of my head…
and these are the things that I do in my bed.

She complained. “We need new blinds; these let in too much light”.
The day I got in new ones, we both overslept. She complained.
But then it rained and we got all cosy.
It was the middle of the day and we were lazy,
no more complaints.