I am dripping in my pants. You are hot and I want you now. Your tie always does the trick. If you come, on a Friday evening, I will wear high hills and will smell of nutmeg and vanilla. I will ask my students to do some kind of task, so that I can think of you. You will be lost in the maze of this place, but will eventually find it. You have a compass in your heart. It will be dusk, the right kind of dusk and you will smile and turn the other way, perhaps a contour of shyness. I know, that is not the right word, you always find the right words, but it's ok. I am not shy, or jealous, or competitive. In your ruins I find shelter (that is also stolen). But it made me think of you. So, make up your mind and come and see me. And I will dump my students and writing and come and meet you in the threshold of my loneliness (blah).