There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart--
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Fairy gold in ancient superstitious lore was unstable and often melted to nothing. 
 The ‘gold baby’ may be a reference to the income that is derived from a successful artistic composition, in other words, herself. Note that artists often refer to successful work as their ‘baby.’ 
 This is reminiscent of a simile in Morning Song, where the baby is compared to a ‘fat gold watch’.
Lady Lazarus