Hey, no homo, but I am sitting on the broken swing set out back in the perfect, quiet, 2:00am blackness and picturing the softness of your voice and the darkness of your eyes with such perfect and terrible clarity that it feels like I'm choking on my own heartbeat.

Now I'm eating croutons straight out of the bag.

Still no homo ?

I'm gonna level with you, friend: I am eating these croutons gay style.