Little Red Riding Ribbon
pretty without the pity
You're lying there with red ribbons all over your nose. Can you breathe that way? The knots are all pretty and tangled; I can't even begin to think of undoing them. They run and fly across your face - frayed threads on your cheek, your lips, your jaw. They ripple.
♠ ♠ ♠
Translation: Your nosebleed's gleaming in the light and maybe I should clean you off, but I'll lick you up instead.