There’s that wonderful moment at night when in bed alone you are drifting between sleep and wakefulness where the mind floats from one swirling thought or image to another. The mind is filled with foggy half formed images, so often sexual in content, a strange mixture of the subconscious obsessions we are all pray to, angels and mermaids, glowing genitals mingling fluids, priapic creatures from mythology blended with past lovers in glorious undress.
You’re to sleepy even to masturbate, your body at peace yet moist with pleasure, your mind priming itself for a deeper sleep full of wonderful dreams.
And the next morning as you sip your coffee in bed you can muse how mayby, just maybe you could turn some of those fantasies into reality.
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