Football

football reminds me of my brother
for i cannot avoid thinking
of his bum on the couch
and his trunk held back —
completely relaxed —
as his mind narrated games
and his tongue mimicked its sound

it makes me think about
how passions are transformed
when we grow older

for he doesn’t shout
‘goaaaaaaaaaaaaal!’
whenever one scores
anymore
he just types and types
and types out words
mechanically
yet passionately still

football reminds me of my brother —
of our constant quarrels and distancing arms
and our inevitable laughter
our shared love for words
and one another

it reminds me of an age lost
of myths and pounds and anger
and of how that time would have been wasted
if he weren’t my brother
if it didn’t make sense
to argue with him
to fight him over
and over
in order to learn
of each other

just so
we grow up
along one another

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