Drown me in your tea, honey,
shroud me in the old Afghan.
Stoke me up on the fireplace
and try scouring me from every pan.
Beat me out of your Persian, love,
and sweep me over the doorway –
you’ll have to skin every room of wallpaper
just to keep me away.
Light your heavy candles, sweetheart
and fill your lungs with me –
run a bath and draw it deep,
and I’ll soak you ears to feet.
Brew me, sunshine, and brew me strong
so I’ll take your time a while;
these halls are steeped in long romance,
and windows frosted from smiles.
My heat’s in the footprints on the floor,
and my heart’s in the kitchenware –
darling, till I’m pouring from your skin,
It’s my warm rooms you’ll share.
For those sharing warm rooms