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in 18/ IG: @onlyiqra
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
A poem about a family memory, thank you for reading <3

mishap

At family events,

At family events, I was always in charge of the potatoes,

At family events, I was always in charge of the potatoes, knobbly like my childhood knees

At family events, I was always in charge of the potatoes, knobbly like my childhood knees and covered with as much dirt as they had once been.

The taste of yellow at the end made for the best feast,

The taste of yellow at the end made for the best feast, a trophy in the table's centre,

The taste of yellow at the end made for the best feast, a trophy in the table's centre, made our home where there was full-fat milk

The taste of yellow at the end made for the best feast, a trophy in the table's centre, made our home where there was full-fat milk and butter was the right shade of sunny.

Tucked under the tablecloth was a receipt.

Tucked under the tablecloth was a receipt. Mom trying to hide her store-bought toppings

Tucked under the tablecloth was a receipt. Mom trying to hide her store-bought toppings and the clock learning to be a beautiful thing.

Tucked under the tablecloth was a receipt. Mom trying to hide her store-bought toppings and the clock learning to be a beautiful thing. Fast on its feet,

Tucked under the tablecloth was a receipt. Mom trying to hide her store-bought toppings and the clock learning to be a beautiful thing. Fast on its feet, but a beautiful thing.

No leftovers to eat,

No leftovers to eat, a beautiful thing.

No leftovers to eat, a beautiful thing. Late morning rush

No leftovers to eat, a beautiful thing. Late morning rush and looped shoestring.

Last night I dreamt of the kitchen sink and the laces I learned to tie near there,

Last night I dreamt of the kitchen sink and the laces I learned to tie near there, north and facing twilight,

Last night I dreamt of the kitchen sink and the laces I learned to tie near there, north and facing twilight, and that no matter how much butter I put in the roasting tray,

Last night I dreamt of the kitchen sink and the laces I learned to tie near there, north and facing twilight, and that no matter how much butter I put in the roasting tray, or caramel on popcorn buckets,

someone would always want more.

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