Laying in bed staring at the vent thinking about you again and again and again.

Warm air blows down on to my face; I cannot breathe, for the heat is too intense.

If this is what happens when thinking about you takes hold of the flesh, I should go and find you now.

All hot and bothered and with no relief, I take a visit to the garden; the chill and the rain upon my face temporarily calms me.