When I say I am drunk,
I don't always mean off of the poison
that we so gingerly call liquid courage.
Sometimes, your voice is potent enough
to make me feel a little bit inebriated.
Your fingertips gently caressing my skin
is like the shot that puts me over the edge
and by the time you're complimenting
my writing, my mind, my body
I am flat out hammered.
The only difference in drinking you
is the morning after.
I don't awaken to a pounding head,
but instead a pounding heart
and in replacement of a tall glass of water
when we go out to lunch,
I order a tall glass of you-
which happens to be my favorite thing on the menu.