I stand naked in the cedar closet, running my hands over the two dresses that might do for the occasion and trying to decide, but he comes up behind me and places his hands on my hips. ‘A party is a fine thing,’ Bon Iver says, and lowers his mouth to my shoulder. ‘But we have food, music and dancing right here in this old house.’
The dresses hang in the closet, forgotten, and the truck is silent in the driveway, but a good many cocktails are drunk tonight at home.
GPOY Love.