I am lost perhaps quixotically intoxicated on

I Am Lost
Perhaps
Quixotically Intoxicated
On Your Mere Psst..
Stumbled Upon You Are
Perhaps
As An Outcome Of My Besotted Swagger
And I Fall, Headstrong Into You
Into The Ditch
With Drunkard’s Grip About Your Hips
I’ll Sip ~ I Swear I Will
The Nervous Dewdrops Of Your Innocence
From Your Navel
If I’m Able..
So Every Single Time I Inhale
You Are There
And
Every Single Time I Exhale
You Are There
And
Just Let Me Be Surrounded
In My Stupor Of All Your Things
P L E A S E
Linguistically High – I – Am
Saying Your Name In A Mantra-Like Fashion
‘Til I’m Purple Passion-Ed In The Face..
I Knew You Were The Wilderness When I Licked Your Aroused Libation
~ And Stepped Outside Into The Dark..
Ohh ~ But I Had Faith In You
Still Do
Tight Roping Life Like – Yellow Street Lines Just –
So I Can Get Closer To You..
Sobriety & Love/lust Are A Thin Line Of Description Where The “You & I” Are Concerned
Trying Not To But, Anticipating The Burn
Perhaps
Intoxication Remains The Capital Of The State Of ~ Me
As Long As There’s An “Us” In The Universe
Clean Up, Dry Out, Sober Up ~ That’s What I Tell Myself I Need To Do
But I Just – I Can’t Break This Need For You
Guess You’d Better Dismiss Me & Move On Soon
~ Before I Up, Make A Fool Of Myself & ~
Beg To Marry You….