cup of tea

six [and a half] years old,

clutching a tootsie pop wrapper

[folded sapphire]

learning the word ‘crush’

for the first time ever

[a double entendre]

dress dancing around her

knee-high socks-

she now knows what a crush is,

while she watches him go,

[candy stickiness, fingers to palms]

eyes clouded with

innocent affections.

20-some years, later.

‘crush’, a high school term

she knows the smell of sage

on flesh

and the taste of raspberries

[and cream]

between thighs.

women, men

they melt and blur together

but his edges won’t blend.

who is he - the man she trusts

to hold her body delicate, soft?

too many years, platonic.

but now her gaze is not-so innocent.

he leaves her reeling;

six [and a half] years old

and holding a tootsie pop wrapper

learning, for the first time,

what exactly a ‘crush’ entails.