Breakfast in bed

Breakfast in bed.
There are:
Crumbs like “spikes.”
“Unclear” stains.
“Oh, Mom, I didn’t mean to.”
“Oops, somehow this spilled on me.”
And.
Breakfast in bed.
There are.
The most heartfelt conversations.
The most hugs.
Stories about dreams visited.
Planning out Sunday.
And in the bedroom lingers the feeling that everything is good and cozy.
The puddle hasn’t seen those crumbs and stains.
It shakes off and, with a little more effort, can be cleaned up.

“There are days when even the whole world isn’t enough.
And there are days when the bed itself is enough.”

V.