Can't believe they got drunk
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Can't believe they got drunk
i love kimi räikkönen that’s all i have to say
i’m babysitting tonight and i brought my slippers so my feet will be warm
I am to small children what Corporal Levi is to trainees.
That mediocre life
summer cottages, their
creamy walls and empty
sunlit
the stairs cast shadows
as if there were company
but
no movement disturbs their placement
sit like still sleeping beasts
at the head of the dining room table
six chairs
most gone for having stayed in the city
alone and breezed on through the open window
ceramic pots of exotic plants
couldn't recognize them for a name
the surrounding shelves
side tables and desks, walls
filled with small objects
of memories of another family
cousins and summers, smooth stones
immense green garden, behind screen doors
unused and left out sun chairs
enough for more
than this just one
pillar candles melted from evenings
spent around card games
rained in
memories in which only they are present
milky jugs for water
or lemonade
tablecloths and linens, folded
cupboards full
the wood waxy and worn
familiar though this is the first encounter
comforting despite that
this is the first time spent
for you
in someone else's perpetual
summer cottage, their
existence has filled the rafters
they're jumping off the dock
hiding in the careganna
drinking, unbeknownst, on the lawn
cooking paella
they've been cleaning the pool house
staining their chins with popsicles
sun bleaching their blonde cowlicks
freckles in the bathtub
madras seat covers
thick woven sheets on the day bed
warm and as if they'd laid them for you
knowingly
libraries of an aunt's discs like
diana kraal, billie joel and etta james
under kerosene light
eating a green apple with a hunting knife
sitting alone
in a house of
not your own
time spent in
summer cottages, their
summer cottages
Me: you know this game takes place underwater
Sissy: you know these chips take place in a bag