In a younger head
I thought that love was sober,
but when I fall asleep in bed
it comes to roll me over.
I live in my dreams
of my heart's former holders,
of velvet robes on mystery queens
and lips on naked shoulders.
Love did find me young,
and it was my assumption
that I'd grow teeth to bite my tongue
and limit my consumption,
but-
I never grew up,
no, I only grew older.
I lick each drop spilled from the cup,
the cup that runneth over.