Write down the theme of this poem.

My book has never been too tired to go to bed with me.It never has a headache or needs downtime to discuss the day.It never says: please not now, I'm not in the mood. In fact my book seduces me with its spine that beckons from the shelf, yearning for my touch. When I reach out to hold it between my fingers it eases into them, slides into my palm, yields to my gaze. With tenderness it lays its pages bare for me and speaks words that carry me through waves of emotions. When my eyes won't open and I am spent, it rests right next to me, ready for the next round.