Saturdays in The City

Saturdays in The City
I burrow into bed
light, warm
you've lingered in sleep an extra hour
and that's an accomplishment
coffee beckons
potatoes crisp
rosemary, garlic slips under the doorframe
the Boys are on the futon
one large X and a little curled up O
(George doesn't cuddle)
I hear boy-man voices and
creep down our loftbed ladder
clothing pressed to my front
morning light bare on my back
baggy boy clothes feel good
my hair is bedroom hair
it looks good
video games roar against the boys faces
controllers bucking under their skilled fingers
i like to watch
coffee in hand
toes tucked under your knees
rooting for the other guy to win