I'm contained by gin
Soulful and true
Insane but blue
Crimson stains
Withered sheets of satin
Coinciding in my mind
Edinburgh rides high
London below
Call the trolly
Games commence
Justifying my religion
Anticipated revolt
But I sing
And gleam
In Winter's dawn
I love him
Need
And want
Colliding with my palms
Under a prayer of psalms
Ending pitfalls of sex