In the palm of your hand- I feel that I’m only in the palm of your hand and that I fit there, so tiny, like a fairy, curled up inside of a tulip and safe and content to sleep, softly and serenely and lovely, with tiny shoes that always fit.
But, oh, it’s just not fair, that I can do no more than spin tales and enchant and there is nothing I can do there is nothing to do looking up from below that will keep you safe from you, for you, around you. I’m sorry. I’m nothing more than a tickle at your ear.