This is not about an angel,
as some might assume,
from fantasies in books once used.
But I dare say, angels could be in this story,
but metaphorically.

From the shells in the sea,
to small, buzzing bees,
each has a place to sleep,
either in the sea, or under the protection of a queen bee.
You could say, he and I,
were similar to these different rhymes.

Of course, I mean by that he is the shell,
small but significant in the raging waters of hell.

But me a bee, so different,
but with my queens permission,
I can lasso onto that shells rhythm.
I tell you this because I love him,
even if I'm "above him".
My family exclaims this thing, so casually,
trying to haul my "foolish" forbidden love back to hell,
the opposite of heaven.