Lastnight I swallowed the devil

He climbed into my bed, beside me, his skin was smooth as glass broken by bristles not unlike that of a cured pig. I held still not daring to breath, but his hand apon my shoulder, told me there was no where to hide. The devil was hot like a child with a fever. Into my ear he whispered with a voice like velvet and snowfall "I am seeking concealment." .....