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Taps.

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We shoot glances like the clock is on zero.
Hypothalamus buzzers shoot oxytocin like you aren't even losing right now; I---
I get strange glances when I clap after you get back up.
But I've fallen before.
And I know the worst part comes
When your breath leaves and you dangle in between the basket...
And the floor.
My bindi glitters as I scream your number; you wink at me like we've done this before.
Two odd men out, the girl with the Spalding head
And the boy with the skin of a basketball net.
Our differences cross over each other, faking and juking like this is more than a game.
You've put the team on your back.
Your team cheers you on, while mine holds me back.
If only I'd just held on to you and taken the shot,
You could have won a hell of a prize.




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