Star drunk

[riesiel]

Filling myself with other’s words
I find myself star drunk,
full of things to say
yet too off to speak them.
Ideas, or are they memories,
flood my mind and stumble
to fall first from my lips
I remember a sun patterned afternoon
a whispered I love you
not really meant. It dulls
next to what is now in my lap.
A mother’s wait from now
divides time and past wanderings
I forget all but what I have truly loved
the rest all fades into a twilight
picked out in stars from another poet’s memory.