It surprises me how quickly I can conjure
You before me, more familiar to myself
Than my own mirrored face. You sit

Bed warming, I lie open and exact
As a needle preparing to suture.

I am everyone’s receptacle of secrets.
Hallow as a gilded reliquary,
I hold each lie and confession.

It is cold but I know how to be
Even colder. I have had centuries 
Of practice. Listen to me: I have