It's 2 am
And I am drunk
On dance, tea,
And good company.
(Perhaps also on snow)
I titter about my room,
Still in the dress
A bit too nice
For who I think I am,
Organizing my things,
Moving my self around
That it might look nice.
I'm about to give up,
Because the joyous memories
Of finally having a callback,
Of being told that I
Am a wonder to watch,
Are too much
And the joy pulls me to sleep.