Wine makes me giddy at the thought

of all the work things I have to get done

and that paper that I need to write

and the laundry that needs to get all folded up

but I sip my third glass and I think of the times

that hands grabbed on my skin

and all the lips that tasted like sin

parted for pleasure

for taking and giving

a sip of a memory

more to the making

at the bottom of a bottle

for those willing to take me

after I put my glass down

and I’m giddy at the thought

that no work is going to get done

3 thoughts on “Giddy”

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