someone else's flask

Birding it up to a pool party
with beautiful women
and the World Cup on in the background.

Annabelle's regret is still on her mind
and she greets me like a stranger.
It's okay, I am 8 lighter.

I count the beautiful women
and the douche bags;
I lose to all of them.

I take a sip from a random, passed flask
regretting the absinthe,
and then find a place in the shade.

being alone surrounded by people
is a lovely disposition,
hence the too-cool moniker.

I fall asleep
and dream of New York,
and wake up on a clean-shaven leg.