| Drunk Your words fill me and overflow onto the floor. I lap them off the tiles. Too besotted to rise, I lift my glass to you. I feel your words Stream over my hand and down my arm to caress the side of my breast. I edge closer to let them flow into my soul. I roll in your visions and hope they will seep deep into my clothing. In my drunkenness I stumble to your side, but can only aspire to your knees. |