Angel. My angel.
No, my charge. I am the angel.
Not a perfect, angel, girl.
Guardian angel.
None can harm a hair upon
Your static honey gold head.
I watch you, and you are grace.
You are grace at it's very best.
In each toe and bone I find love.
Love oozes through pin pricks in the form
Of red liquid they teach as blood.
I know it's not the truth.
I know it's you giving bits of your great
To share with the world.
Gracious, little one.
May I have a drip of great?
Only one for I shan't hog, since
I'm before you all day long.
Shame for me to hide you away
Shame for me and my selfish purposeless life.
Just a drop of you to bead upon my tongue.
To sink into the tender flesh of my throat.
And present me with you.
And you're my charge.
And I'm your angel.
Your guardian angel.
