Brothers
by Chad Patrick Osorio
The smoke curls out your lips as you talk about brotherhood,
your lips forming soft, dry curves
which you occasionally moisten with your tongue.
I watch them part, contract, then stretch languidly out
into a half-smirk, your eyes amused.
“Hey, are you listening to me?”
You offer your hand and I take it, clasping hard muscle
under mine.
The coffee drips on your chin as you take a swig from my
cup.
I want to lick it clean.
We walk home together, you limping a little from bruises not
yet fully healed.
Tomorrow I become your brother.
I want so bad for you to be worth it.
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