They Only Call Me Angel When They're On the Way Out

This is the predicessor to 'Any Epiphany After...' He said I'd always be his angel, and no one had called me that since the noght my best friend died. Tried to sort of marry the two experiences in three stanzas.

 

First time

            you called me Baby

 - tangled together like lace,

I looked down and wondered at the bouquet taking shape.

                       

By phone

            you called me Soon, Hurry

 - falling thru your door and off

my kitten heels each time.

 

That night

            you called me Angel

 -sinking back in time to another loss,

another goodbye.

    I wept for both of you one cold winter night -

 for the death of these flowers

for the loss of his life

Author's Note

Obviously, the title needs work; and suggestions?