You cross my mind most of the time
And when you don't,
I somehow feel lonely in my thoughts.
Although I'll never call you mine,
Your potential warms me
Like the summer you are
And the reality of the even chance
Cuts me in half, dead even,
Until I realize my chances sink deep
Within my hesitation
As I crumble
And I just need
To be that tiny piece you hold onto.

Oh, hell--I just love you.