If you are not a soft plump pillow doused in the soft scent of roses,
then please, begone.
If you are not a feathered duvet that gently hugs my body,
then please, retreat and leave me in peace.
If you are not a place upon which I may lay or sleep,
then please, take heed, turn upon your heel and walk away.
If you do not bring chocolate, an endless supply,
If you come without the iron rich necessities of life
then please, go, come again another day.
If you are not the warm hands pressed against my stomach,
if you are not the slow beating heart sent to distract,
if you are not the warmth radiating into me,
leave me to my silence.
Karen Hayward © 2016