Artwork © Eric N. Peterson

 

I Still Think About You

your dad wouldn’t be home.
i followed you sheepishly home that friday, senior year–
side by side, excited as we got closer. my hand
brushed yours, and
i wanted to hold it (or least lock fingers).
you stole some of your dad’s whisky and beer and since
we were both going off to college, we would practice.

it was near the end of the semester, easing into summer,
your skin, freckled, damp and glistening with sweat–
and i swear, for a moment,
you looked like a cherub.

we sat close together on your bed, sipping
the disgusting hoppy beer and the toxic-tasting whisky,
we watched television and played games of
who-could-down-the-beer-the-quickest–
my face was burning up, partly due to the alcohol,
flushed to hell– you laughed at the sight.
i barked at you to shut up–

i still think about that moment.

i wanted to tackle you and kiss you and
never
let go of you. you knew, i know you knew.
no straight man could ever look at another man like that—
we both knew what we wanted.

but nothing happened. we drank some more
and i went home
and we went to different colleges, provinces away,
and i still think about you, Brent,

i hope you left the closet. i know how
it’s cramped and dark—but also how comfortable
it is after a while.

i just wish
one of us said something.

 

Cooper Barron is a student attending the University of Toronto for English & Creative Writing. He has been writing creatively for about two years, finding some success online. He uses his writing as a means of coping and catharsis for dealing with his bipolar, trauma and queerness.

Eric N. Peterson is from Atlanta, Ga. He’s been drawing cartoons all his life. He leans towards the absurd, imaginative, and the surreal, as that’s where all the flavor is.