A note from the tipsy ones

Finally
after three
and a half
glasses of wine,
I feel
the welcome
slight dizzyness
of alcohol.

And I long
for your touch,
your breath
against my skin,
my voice
softly saying
"don't worry
I got you"
as if,
that were enough
to make up
for the whole world.

And I miss
your legs entwined with mine,
your arms clutching me
tightly
to your chest,
your laugh,
innocent
as a child's,
your touch,
making my body
shiver with electricity.

I dream of you,
miles away,
and need
the feel of you
against me.

I'm so afraid
that to you
I'm merely
amusing.