The speaker remembers being warned about a dragon as a child, the kind of frightening figure adults invent to keep kids safe. But the dragon here turns out to look nothing like a monster. It wears big blue bows, has neat, clean nails, and has lips stained purple from lollipops. It sounds like a sweet, tidy little girl, maybe even the speaker's younger self, though the poem never says so outright.
The last line, "because sugar rots," is the sting. It reads like a parent's warning about candy and cavities, but it also hints at something darker: that sweetness and polish can hide decay. The tone is dry and a little bitter, with quiet irony. The speaker seems to be looking back at the warnings with suspicion or sadness, aware that danger can look harmless and neat. The title, "Bury Her With A Smile," adds a grim, mocking edge, as if the pleasant surface is the thing that gets laid to rest.