I want you. Even when I shouldn’t. When my eyes are barely open before the day unfolds. I want you. Even when I’m angry. Anger cannot suppress what you’ve created. 

When I should be listening. I want you. When I’m concentrating on the tasks at hand. I want you. When I see the rain falling. I want you.

Watching you is the burning  touchpaper, alight. I want you. How your hands make me envious of all that you touch. I want you.