You speak in impertinent dribblings ,

Soggy words, dripping down your chin;

Pooling in your lap.

Do you have any idea what you’re saying?

And the way you look at her as you speak,

Responding to her garish, attention-hogging tendencies.

I see the way your lips curl at the edges

As you know you’ve got her in your gilded trap -

Set wide open and glittering gold,

Like your golden-brown eyes,

Sucking her in.

Poor, dumb girl.

You act like she deserves it.

And maybe, she does.

You two put on quite a show,

Like a mating ritual gone awry.

Her sexual longings are lingering on her red, smiling lips;

Wishing only for a warm embrace, a touch,

To tell her she’s worth it.

But you are no self-esteem booster -

In the long run, having quite the opposite effect.

You’ll tear her down,

Every last piece,

Until she’s left to scatter in the wind.

And she’ll mix with the remains

Of myself and every other woman

That has gotten trapped in your gilded eyes.

As for the rest of us?

We’re watching, waiting,

For another storm cloud to join in

On this perfect storm we’re creating.

Baby, you’re steering straight into a hurricane

Tonight.