It shimmers in the faint light that seeps in from beneath the closed doors.
Its touch is like flowers, like clouds, like breath, and it clings and slips
and makes you feel quite queen-like.
You comb your hair a hundred times and you brush your teeth.
You wash your face with the posh, age-defying face wash
and you step out of your soft fur slippers.
In a smooth, royal movement, your stately frame
struts towards your queen-sized bed
with its shiny sheets, covers and pillowcases.
You lift the covers and crawl deep into their velvetty recesses
and, then, all dressed up in your purple night dress
you turn on to your side towards
a blank white wall.