I don’t know if it’s just me or
The six bottles of beer I just had,
But this body misses that body
And I know I could be drunk
To want to kiss your lips
And unfold you
like paper cranes
with worn out creases
but too beautifully assembled
And I am sure I am sober
Enough to love your crooked smiles
And wicked grins
That my stuttering and stammering
Broken “I miss you”s
Would show I am stumbling
For sentences cohesive enough to stick
To the back of your mind
Only to recall and rehearse my drunken stupor
At 1 AM when you accidentally wake up
And you can’t remember the difference
Between wanting and waiting