I want you like a hurricane
Of category five.
My force of arms won’t bring a pain,
But press in joy, alive!

You’re in my eye and I can see
Your wond’rous spirit strong,
And wrap I round with soaring sound
Of my whole spirit’s song.

I want you like a hurricane
Of category ten!
Tornadoes in me gain and gain,
Desire cries, “Again!”

Up, I lift you, off the earth!
You fly with me, oh yes!
I, hurricane of loving worth;
You, swirls of happiness!

Your swirling hands, your swirling hair,
Do blind me with their touch,
But I can feel, and do not care,
If you grow wild and such.

For you, too, are a hurricane–
Of category nine!
And we’re aloft, with joy to gain,
Upon my storm’s design.

Oh look! Down low there’s men in woe
Who fight wee winds all day.
We hurricanes just grow and grow
And laugh and love and play!