there’s evil in the way I sway my hips
                           ( like sailing ships through a hurricane hell )
where heat under eyelids
meets the cold of the outside

and storms are ****** up
from the atmosphere
and through my throat;
they claw and scratch
and make their way down
into my stomach
to sit and swell

( in a hurricane hell... )

there’s something devilish about
how all I want to do is kiss you even though
I know I’ll only **** you in the end

they tell me rainbows, they are somewhere
and sometimes I can feel them,
but you can’t see the hues through the gray and sleet
or be thankful for shoes if you haven’t got feet,
and fireworks can feign the colours so well
but nothing’s real in here,  ( in this hurricane hell )

and if my eyes were cold
and not so ******* old maybe I could see the way you do;
a ship in a bottle.