My eyes are closed, dust floats through my space, a bedroom of 6 walls and a windows that meets the eye of sunrise. There is no particular smell that strikes me, only sounds of the gas heater humming and a few birds chirping to remind me light is creeping through my space. I am comfortably warm under my down comforter, absolute white, plump, and soft – a goose turned inside out and stripped of everthing under it’s feathers. My heart beats, I breathe, relaxed my body is a physical marriage with the steel bed frame, box spring, mattress, memory foam, sheets, comforter — connected to the space containing me, my bedroom. As with every morning, my boxer briefs are tight from an erection, hard but soft, pulsating as I grip it for an innocent moment. I do not need to open my eyes to see today, predicting now to the end of the night, hour to hour at best until I am back here, in my bedroom, my space but not the same space as this morning with my eyes closed, thinking about today, moment by moment at best.