That tiny gap between your front teeth appeared in my memory and I haven’t stopped smiling—and wanting.

I’m imagining your phone buzzing and you looking at me with that look that makes me forget words.

Your lipstick on the rim of your coffee cup this morning has stuck in my head.

I want to hear the low way you say my name when no one else is around.

I keep picturing the way you rest your chin on my shoulder when you’re tired and it’s dangerous.

Thinking of your jacket draped over my chair and how I want it—and you—on me.

I want the promise of your hands finding my waist when the elevator doors close.

Your message at noon made my skin remember places only you know.

I can’t stop picturing you unbuttoning the top of my dress with that patient grin.

That small smudge of sauce on your chin this morning has been my private entertainment.

I want you to come home and press your mouth to mine for exactly two minutes.

The memory of your knee brushing mine under the table is doing things to me.

I keep returning to the way your palm fit against my sternum and it’s not fair to anyone else.

Seeing your name pop up at lunch made me think of the way you breathe against my ear.

I’m distracted by the thought of you finding the space between my ribs with your fingers.

Your scent on the coat I borrowed has been tormenting me between calls.

I want to trace the line where your shirt ends and your skin begins.

If you text me that single word you used in bed last week I will disappear from my meetings.

I keep replaying your hands on the small of my back and it’s ruining my productivity.

The idea of you sliding into my seat opposite me and whispering is swallowing my focus.

Your shoelace coming undone this morning is the thing I can’t stop picturing.

I want the quiet of you undressing a problem from me with a look.

That little freckle by your collarbone has my attention more than it should.

All I want at this hour is you standing in the doorway and saying my name low.

I keep thinking about how you tugged my hair behind my ear and I can’t concentrate.

Your laugh in the hallway at lunch rerouted my afternoon plans to you.

Wish I could feel your hand slip into my back pocket the way you do in crowds.

The thought of you humming while you wash the dishes is making me impatient.

I noticed the back of your neck in the sun and now I only want to be there.

Still tasting the salt from last night on your skin and it’s making work impossible.

I want the simple thing of you pressing your forehead to mine when you get home.

That crooked grin you gave when you stole my sandwich has been on repeat in my mind.

If you send me a picture of your shirt half-buttoned I will lose my head at my desk.

I keep imagining your fingers moving the curtain so I can see you standing there.

I want you to walk in the door and find me with your shirt on and nothing else under it.

Your text at noon about the meeting made my hands go somewhere very different.

That heat from your jacket on my shoulders this morning is still on my skin.

I'm thinking of your phone buzzing in your pocket and hoping it's mine when it does.

I remembered the exact spot you put your keys and left them where you'd find them later.

Tell me one thing that annoyed you today and I'll listen properly.