It’s the middle of the night,
And I’m here, half-frozen,
Lying in the icy abyss of my side of the bed,
While she
The Duvet Bandit
Sleeps like a queen on her fluffy throne,
Curled up in the warmth of her stolen kingdom,
Oblivious to the tundra she’s left behind.

Each night it’s the same.
I think tonight,
Maybe tonight,
I’ll win the war.
I’ll slip under the duvet,
Feel the warmth,
Pretend this battle’s mine.

But she
She moves like a ninja in the dark,
A half-sleeping contortionist,
Tugging the duvet with the grace of a thief,
Taking the heat,
Leaving me with nothing but the cold,
A crisp reminder of her skill.

I could protest.
Start a midnight negotiation
“Hey, that’s my side!”
But look at her
Blissfully unaware,
Curled up,
In her fortress of fluffy dreams.
She doesn’t even know she’s won.
She’s in heaven,
And me?
I’m freezing,
But I’m smiling.

This
This is love.
This is the dance we do,
Night after night.
Her stealing the duvet,
Me, the coldness.
But somehow
Somehow
Her happiness wraps around me like a blanket too.
A little warmth in the chaos.

So I let her have it,
Let her keep it
The duvet,
The warmth,
The night.
Because in the morning,
She’ll stretch,
Give me that sleepy grin,
Like she’s just done me a favour.
“Thanks for lending me your half.”

She may steal the duvet,
But she never leaves me cold.
Because at the end of the night,
It’s not the duvet that keeps me warm,
It’s her love,
Her laugh,
Her way of finding her way back to me
Even if it’s just to swipe a little more.

(c)BobChristian

(Legal: Mrs Bob may or may not be guilty of duvet and or blanket theft)