The night is my shepherd,
my mother, holding me,
my blanket, weighing evenly over my body,
my solitude in full bloom.
It's my daily Christmas, a gift from nature,
my costume, disguising me,
my yesterday and tomorrow, a context, 
my kingdom, keeping me in control.
It's my eye to see the light out there,
my shield, distancing me from the enemy,
my plate glass, upon which I etch,
and my lover, who cannot kiss and tell.