Bro,

Lights low.
9:30 PM.
The sweat glistens off your body
You grunt in delight
Accept my pass.

Dillon gym. Pick up ball. Let’s fucking go.

You and me
A harmonious duo
Kicking the shit out of Kyle.

In pure aggression
I drive, penetrating the zone
Take it to the hoop.
Jordan.

Kyle can’t handle our power
Once again united
Once again pure.

In a rush of adrenaline
We high-five
You give the tenderest high-fives.

And we walk back to your room
Enter in revelry
And turn off the lights

Suck it, Kyle.

No Homo,

Ben

Bro,

The fire alarm goes off.
“Perfect timing!” we laugh.
You toss me your Pati
I pull it over my head
(It smells like you)
And we walk out
Into the drizzling rain.

I look over at you,
The drops of rain
Dewing on your forehead
Into neat beads
That glide viscously down
Your carved features.

You look over at me
And as my hand
Brushes your hand
(Ruggedly calloused from learning guitar)
We both know
One way or another
We are together]
And that is enough.

Also, Kyle is the worst.
Like seriously,
That guy sucks.

No Homo,

Carson