crush.
why do we call it “crush”?
I don’t feel any pain – no squeeze or pressing;
just a pulse beating
and über-consciousness, too.
It’s a stretch, a smile
a few moments of understanding
or was it a mediocre gaze?
I don’t feel a squeeze or a press,
only sensations I don’t want to explain.
what is my desire?
attention? touch? friendship?
I think: someone to ask
How was your day?
And really want to know.
I think: someone to look at me
and linger on my face.
I think: someone who I find interesting
and everyday I ask
What’s new?
Because I really do want to know…
Can a “crush” achieve that?
if it does, will it be just a “crush”?
Or does it graduate to love?
Or are we stuck in-between, until we are
crushed
with the certainty that they are the one?
(and I know I won’t know that one for a while)
Must we call it anything?
“Crush” feels heavy.
but it, too, is too light.
how can I name something that
feels permanent until it’s gone.
how do I name what I feel?
I mistrust
a crush.
All have fallen through:
too much weight put on them.
one flying thought
takes me for a ride.
Could it be? I ask, mid- flight.
Not: Do I like this.
Should I tell anyone? I ask soaring in the clouds.
Not: Should I tell him.
He’s interesting,
I justify.
He’s cute. He’s tall.
there are clues if I search back…
what do I do now, though?
I wish I were brave.
I wish I would go for it.
Because then,
there would be no “crush,”
only an everyday fling
something
that happened,
not something that sticks around
and leans on me when I’m inside.
Could it be?
Can it be?
Would it ever have been?
Why wasn’t it.
Maybe it’s because
I called it a
crush.