hypothetical heart

Even when I crush
I do not want love 
from the one 
in whose reach 
or sway or tread 
I am crushed upon.

I just want her!
Not all for my own, just
how we occur.
Growing groaning 
in laden freight 
cars coupling 
in gathering train 
to a cute caboose, 
chock with goods galore,  
with a headful of steam

- how could one want more?
and just what would that mean?

Unless I was single. Her, too. 
Then, sure. Aim away! All 
hands on deck, shoot! SCORE 

but, who cares? 

that's rarely the case. When it is, 
it's no problem! Takes care of itself
like biz. More commonly, I just dig  
however we've come to this. And
however we shall go finding out,
pure me in my usual beautiful
clarity bliss of however things twist! 

I was curious, 
man, from the age of three.
By seven I'd concluded 
let's make the best.  

Put whatever we have got to be
or to give! Finding out is
my jam check test. Plus
getting to know! So if she has a crush 

on me, too? WHAM 

I might like to know, but 
I don't want to know, you 
know? Not really, though.  

It's not our business, and 
it might not apply. 

This ain't that kind of friendzone,
darling. You and I, two people 
and we both have a crush? On
each other, and both are like "nah,
let's not"? 

Actually, that sounds hilariously cool! 
Hypothetical huzzah, but the far 
more natural rule: is enjoy
who you are, who you're 
with. And all you each bring 
to become in the dance and give.

It's as good as reality sways. I don't
want no daydream fantasy play
through a forest of pine you can't see
for the needles in your eyes every 
time, while you ache and your 
longing grows only ever more
hard yearn to gulp down,

grow up. That's the childish shit, 
sad clown.