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Jun 2022 · 122
Chosen Fam
Riley McIlveen Jun 2022
Your armpit smells fine
With my head inside it.
I went too low in our hug.

Have you ever been bear hugged
From the side?

I imagine you’d want to lift me.
Your back arched and my feet
Dangling one at a time
Until we crash into the rug.

Is it still a blood brother
When only one is bleeding?
Blood wiped from a cheek
By a thumb.

I want to live in the space
Between our shoulders at the bar,
Where I’ve doubled over laughing,
Holding your elbow
To steady.

— The End —