Oil, that is what I need,
for my arms are getting
a little rusty.
It has been a while
since I held my angel
in them tight.
Lip balm I need,
to moisten my lips,
before I press them
to her rose petals,
from which she speaks.
A feather duster,
to brush my shoulder,
I need too,
to make it clean
for head of you.
Come to me,
hold me,
kiss me,
put your head
on my shoulder.
