Drunk on You

Yeah, like the taste of Amaretto, Saturday nights drinking whiskey in a meadow; I feel the echo of your burning enzymes on my tongue. I bet Mister Daniels would approve as we fell into the groove. Stolen Merlot was my muse but now all that’s changed

and yeah darling, now
I’m drunk on you.

Youth by the milliliter has never been sweeter
standing up against a whitewashed fence-
interlocked fingers
and elixirs that made us
better singers than God had
planned us to be.

And growing old to liquid gold may take its
toll but we’ll never wonder if the good
days don’t go to heaven;

whether lyrics in
our beverage will ever
evolve beyond percentages of
body weight.

I may have had a
few too many but it
seems fate is only one of
multiple endings.

Still, you’re worth
spending all
my weekend money on.

It’s a lovely thought, because
I’m just a little
bit in a love.

Yeah baby, I think
I’m thinking
I should stop
but truthfully,
beautifully, I most
simply cannot.

Yeah darling,
you’re the shot
of something new,
and yeah darling,
I’ll always be

drunk on you.

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6 thoughts on “Drunk on You

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