Isn't it true that, if I kiss your foot, you will limp not to hurt my kiss?
Nichita Stănescu
“If you start with a crush it might lead to a crash,” I was once told, and that assessment sounds true and solid to its very core.
However:
A crush is a fragile winged creature akin to the ephemeral mayfly. As it’s a single one, it will not reproduce. But it'll produce a show of life during its lifespan.
The lovers’ butterflies are altogether other creatures and imply laying eggs in each other’s stomach, nurturing caterpillars, admiring the chrysalis, and waiting for the full spectacle.
A crush starts as a nymph or naiad in freshwater. Freshwater is water that looks fresh for the one who has the crush. Water is his crush, his thirst.
When it reaches adulthood, a crush is called an imago. I suspect because it produces images that might have not been seen before.
A crush comes to existence of its own volition. No one’s to blame. No one should be ashamed.
Though laughable, a crush has sufficient wing force to influence the length of airwaves, thus changing how words come to sound.
A crush was chilli to a writer such as Hemingway. He called it being in love, but most probably they were crushes, and still his writing benefited from them. Thus Hemingway arguably crushed crushes to turn them into chilli powder for later use. Or he might have used only fresh crushes. We'll never know.
A crush is a Stănescu’s kiss. Either you limp or it dies. As it’s impossible to sustain such a funny way of walking for long...
