​She’s
cloaked in the color of darkness,
sultry little black dress of death
And with each threatening step,
each tantalizing breath,
she takes a little part of you.
And yet you
dance,
two-stepping on a tightrope,
lost in your intoxication,
a drunken moving meditation, 
dodging flames as the world burns,
she’s gotten a hold of you.
And still you
dance,
because you know 
she cannot touch you
can only have so much of you
no stranger to chaos, are you?
You love to play with fire so you
dance.
Dance until the storm becomes you.
Dance until the flames engulf you.
Dance until the waters drown you.
So then maybe you can be free.
You’re desperate to be free,
so you
dance a little quicker,
swallow down your liquor,
quickly quench your thirst,
and then, 
in your lusty rebirth,
she consumes you.
Are you tired yet? Too bad. 
There’s more fun to be had,
gird your loins and hold your stance,
best get comfortable in your trance,
there’s no escaping this game of chance,
so if you want to live, 
then you’ve got to
dance.

​the thing about New York is
don't wear enough layers
and you'll spend all eternity
picking frost off your bones
​- Brick