It's an urgent request.
There's an urgency surrounding
Your late night emergency call,
Your midnight light for a lift,
Your thrashing in darker waters.
I'm thinking of you elsewhere,
Oh ripped wing fairy,
Frozen in a garden of statues.
Elsewhere I am moving toward you.
And from other points of view,
I am too much of a saint for you:
Well, and you are too much of an angel
For such a malice as this world.
The world that I waver on to and fro,
And that is here to protect you from itself.
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