two drinks

you can't drink
anymore.
those days are gone.
two
martinis and
you're speaking
Spanish,
badly.
three and you're
the French
ambassador
waving to an adoring
chicken eating
crowd.
tossing roses
off the veranda,
making phone calls
to women
you once knew
and almost loved.
now you sip
and keep your mouth
relatively shut,
you hide your phone
from yourself.
you are aware
of the dangers
of speaking
at this stage
of your life.