You hide your love like you
Store away expensive whisky.  
"I'm sure it's where I left it"
you say, unable to recall
Where that where is now.
We search low and high,
In places obvious and not,
Under beds, atop the presses,
In cupboards and sock drawers.
But no luck, and yet and I know
You can't turn tap-water into wine,
But I still would not go thirsty
By your side, water does fine.
Now is as bad as any time
To tell you that when
I stood high on the kitchen chair,
Nearly touching the ceiling,
I found your whisky bottle,
On the presses top, like
A dust collected Excalibur.
Not a drop drank yet. Suddenly
I told myself right then that
You would be better without it,
And my mind and heart asked me
What have I done to deserve it?
Just because I am the one who
Found your love, doesn't mean that
I should be the one to drink from
The well of yourself. I would not want
Those precious mouthfuls
Wasted to a mouth like mine.