You are stood on the floor
All wet and dripping,
After effects of my walk,
Earlier in the evening;
The rain drops slide deftly
Off your pitch black skin,
And onto the floor
In tiny streams,
Adding a glisten
To your rich darkness.

By the morning
You’ll be all ready,
Waiting to be folded,
And packed for the day;
But tonight you get,
A rare chance,
To spread your wings,
And to rest,
Even as the rest of us
In the household sleep.