Too Hungry To Sleep

Clasped hands, a stuffed penguin,
two memory foam pillows,
a couple strands of hair left behind,
chilled flesh against sheets
I can feel from shoulder to hip the line defining
a broad concave landscape, soft like Arctic marsh
your hand could sink down into it.
Poorly strung together dreams
interrupted by a growling stomach or
light vibration of a smart watch
beeping at 19% battery life
forgotten on a wrist,
I can form an invisible triangle from hip bone to belly button to hip bone
I can count the minutes until falling asleep again.