Tenderness

She knows he won't want tenderness and yet  
There do come times when there's a softer side;  
Though a pet has no reason to expect  
For sir to tend her gently, this divide  
Matches the hours when she sleeps; so she'll miss  
It all and she can wake to ruder life  
That he find suits her well; He needs a piss  
So it may suit him too; it may suffice  
Her mouth to know it pleased him; and her throat  
To swallow all the aftermath, regale  
His appetites and, as a piss mop, coat  
Her needs in all this liquid gold; don't fail  
To swallow or lick up, before she'll show  
That tender where her master's bound to go.