The Insurrection Poem by Dean Meredith

May I be mostly honest with you?
I utter off-guard
She waves me on

It's about a crush
And I'm partly sorry
Not wanting to jeopardize or destroy

If I were just a regular guy
Why is she not smiling?
Her self-control is admirable

So many lost hearts
Too few errant crushes
And it must defy someone's rules

Or it's not even worth considering
Humble truth, sweet-pickle whimsy
Her boundaries firmly extending

Far beyond truth & meaning
She's open to it, I'm caught
At the start of silent defiance

Her grand mall ushers us through
Windows of the stores made up
One of us cut our mustard

You have me confused with someone else
She said, I partly agreed
Out of truth, out of need