Something like hammers and nails

I will arrive home on one of the
coldest days of the year. I will
change into silk and polyester,
lay in a satin bed.
Slowly,
it is me that radiates out through
skin contact and light from the day.
Slowly, I am warm. It is all warm.

Because that is all I do.
Accept beautiful and sweet obstacle courses
like heating without burning any delicate thing.
I rebuild home every night of my life.

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