I bought a bamboo back scratcher because
the door jamb couldn’t do the job
then found a noisy fan to mask the absence 
of your snoring. A stepladder lends me height.
A genie zips my dresses. The phone’s alarm
can wake me well enough, although your mouth 
upon my skin would rouse me somewhat gentler.
An app provides direction, another lists of songs.
Alexa reads the news and tells me jokes.
I’ve searched in shops in town and stores online,
but no one sells a gadget that will kiss
the nape of my neck unexpectedly or pinch
my ass as I wash and rinse the breakfast dishes
or spin me ’round to dance about the kitchen.