I buy a beautiful (heavy) dark blue bottleneck bottle
(was that thunder or the throttle?)
A southern storm rages inside the glass
I trace my fingertips down the neck waiting for the rain to pass
Silent yet furious
Looking through the glass—delirious
I watch the lightning pinging from side to side in the middle
Dancing, demanding attention—even for a little
No ship in sight
No lover so no fight
But a white flag slowly floats to the top
And the storm swells ready to fucking pop