I am not the night.

Mine are not the stars and moon
Or the black holes or the planets.

But I can't hold the dew drops and morning glories either
Or the sun or the blue or the twilight.

I am not the day.

If I could choose, I'd be the night.
The poetry of the night calls to me
Saying-
Christine, I am made for you!
Christine, I am all there is!
But I cannot be the night.

However, I see both in you.