The sound of bells

It’s at night
And all to myself
No place for human language
No humans
I wear my ring so I can be identified
There’s the deafness
Sometimes I think they work in shifts
Or live in shifts
But that’s applying human things to things that aren’t human
Nevertheless
Some you meet during the day
Some you meet only at night
Some at random
A few very rarely
I love to eat sweet things through the night
And the taste of wine
These things most precious
And I want them to live
The others are asking me to leave