I keep imagining you stealing my tie and using it to tell me to be quiet when I get home.

During the briefing I doodled your initials and the rest of the day went sideways with desire.

The hotel bed looks empty but my head is full of you tucked in sideways and warm.

Thinking of untying the scarf you insisted on wearing and finding your neck underneath it.

Stuck in an airport lounge and I keep picturing you sliding into the seat across from me, smirking.

I bought extra mints because every time I think of you I want fresh breath for whatever comes next.

Flash: I can’t stop picturing your silhouette in the doorway, fingers curled on the frame.

I want to memorize the scent on the collar of your jacket when I hug you at the gate.

My presentation went well but I only cared about the thought of undoing your braids tonight.

Tell me the color of your underwear from the other day; I promise I won’t stop thinking about it.

The hotel elevator dinged and I pictured you stepping in with that look that says 'wait for me'.

I walked past a record store and thought of you picking a song to make me come find you.

Short break: I imagined you sneaking into my room and stealing a kiss while I pretend to sleep.

My neck is warm thinking of your breath there; I’m counting down flights until I get it again.

Please tell me you miss the taste of the sauce from that cafe we love — I want to recreate that at home with you.

You folding into my arms at the airport is the only mental rehearsal that’s getting me through today.

I can’t focus because I keep imagining you whispering which shirt I should wear tonight.

If you text me one word right now I’ll plan every minute after my last session around that word.

I scribbled your name on the margin of my notes and smiled like an idiot for the rest of the meeting.

There’s a crooked picture on my hotel wall and all I want is you crooked over my shoulder.

That peppermint gum you chew — I keep picturing you offering it to me with a grin.

Someone asked about weekend plans and I lied: 'meeting someone' — it was you I meant.

I bought two extra tickets to charm thinking of you whispering 'not here' in my ear.

Your voicemail made my palms sweat; replaying it between presentations is my guilty pleasure.

Work got dull — now all I can think about is undoing the top button of your blouse slowly.

I keep imagining you stealing my hotel robe and wearing it out — and refusing to give it back.

Quick: tell me what perfume you put on this morning so I can steal it in my head.

The city lights look small from my window; what I want to see is your silhouette by the door.

I want to open my suitcase and find your shirt folded inside with your scent on it.

I walked past a bakery and thought about feeding you a croissant and watching you grin.

My pen keeps pausing because I keep thinking about your fingers tracing the spine of my notebook.

Tell me the exact time your shift ends so I can start counting slow minutes toward you.

The scent of coffee here is nothing compared to the memory of your lips after the espresso this morning.

You in my bed with my shirt half-buttoned, that’s the whole mental escape I need today.

Between calls I keep planning how I'll kiss your neck when I get home.

My meeting ran long and all I could picture was your knee brushing mine under the table.

Send me a photo of the red sweater you wore last week; I keep imagining it on my hotel chair.

I keep replaying your laugh in the hotel lobby and picturing you leaning over the minibar toward me.

Thinking about the way you smell after you step out of the shower — want that damp hair against my collar tonight.

I’m sorry I didn’t bring the pastry you like from the airport café.