I am a kettle made of stainless steel I am a saint, for tea is brewed to heal And , unlike kettles on an old coal fire, I am not dirty nor do I perspire. My mirrored sides reflect you as you cook. Look at me and read me like a book I’m full of love and hotter than a man Oh, dear lady, love me while you can. Superior mother, yet inhuman I; Even electric kettles sometimes lie. I shall never punish you, my dear For perfect love like mine shall wield no fear. All I ask is that you polish me. For, in between your hands, I yearn to be.
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