The bed warmer
All night long I lie against his body,
that firm naked flesh.
As he turns, I turn; we touch and I
caress him softly.
I warm him, comfort him,
hug him; we snuggle.
Light trickles through the curtains and
I feel him stir.
Suddenly I am thrown to the floor!
I've no voice to cry.
I feel used; dishevelled,
but I should have said,
I'm just a 12 tog duvet on
my masters bed.
poem by Ruth Walters
Added by Poetry Lover
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