I see
something
quaint
yet ductile
in you,
sensible
but vulnerable
to the ways of
the world yet
to be discovered. I
think
you ought
to charm the
devils of life
to your sweet
inner
seduction.
I like the vibe
of a volunteer in
you.
There will be
hoards of
men
who ought not
to have
kissed you
in your
drunken
ecstasy. And a
few, who
perhaps
deserved it
a bit more.
May you stay a
fair child,
always
