Tuesday Poem- the book of notes

Three bites from the book of 'Notes' by Haley Parkyn

I am an ancestor of the straight-laced.
I'm going to think of dalmations
and try not to fall over in my bed.

***

Sighs form solid from
my nose and mouth.
Numb fingers and cheeks.

***

And warmth is to lay in a pool of
cotton sheets for a time and soak up the splendor
of half awakeness.