ice and wine

it's after the wine and the hugs and kisses on the cheek and up to my elbows in dirty party dishes that i realize these are the times i'm going to to miss. i think for a second that maybe i didn't appreciate it as much as i should've and maybe i'll go back.

and now the sun's coming up over this ice-damaged street and i can't sleep and i wonder if i'm just supposed to sleep alone. that kind of old lady that has the separate wing of the house, away from everyone else because she just needs to be by herself.

i'm turning into my grandmother already.

and maybe someday you'll take me seriously, but until then i'll let you sleep.