When the light is low and the wind is long I shape the shadows on the ground

And I like to make them change and play until they’re old enough and long enough to pass away

Into the cool soothing night they at long last light fade

Until the morning when the shape of the windows and the curtains I hang once again

Send little bursts of light onto your lips and the curve of your cheek and your eyelids flutter

The dappled pattern from the lace I wove enough to rouse you from your nightmares but not enough to wake you from pleasant dreams

And whether it is at the end or the start of your day I spend those precious few hours, beloved, in tireless industry

It is not enough to me that you should seen the light come and go with the seasons

She does not understand you as I do, oh how delicate you are, how ephemeral, how easily you burn

I decorate the sun for you, so that you never know what it feels like when a celestial deity turns