brass knuckles

for whatever reason, we went to fist-bump tonight, and as your hand hit mine, I felt the impact of chunky metal. “I”m sorry about the ring,” you said, and I looked at you, and looked at the ring and all it symbolises and laughed and laughed and laughed. You had the grace to laugh as well, and to say “in all non-ironic forms as well, I’m sorry about the ring”. That was really sweet.

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