POEM FOR STRAIGHT GUYS

who let me sit with them

on the school bus, saved a seat for me

at lunch, who knew who I was before I did

and didn’t care. Invited me to sleepovers—

pranked me like one of the guys—

all of us sleeping on the floor.

Thanks for not picking me last

for football, even though

I sucked, for passing to me,

high-five—no worries—if I missed.

Not afraid to undress

where I could see, and, yes,

I looked. Thanks for letting me stare at

what I wanted to stare at,

figuring out how I felt.

Thanks for flexing, wrapping arms

around my neck, making a place

when I needed a place.

Thanks for going shirtless.