Like a Bandit

What I would do
if I were you
must surely be irrelevant.

But oh! – if I could
let you know the rabid pleasure
you unwittingly bestow

by merely walking towards
me in a room, your hair
un-groomed, hand-mussed,

stuck up in random peaks,
your square butt flopping down
into a chair, your legs

splayed wide, your body
leaning back in
unaccustomed thought, your brow

a kind of study in the sort
of slightly fraught
and pensive frown

a jock would make
attempting to remember
something hard in algebra,

perhaps a whiff-bit conscious
you’re displaying all the delectation
of you in the round,

allowing me to look,
just look –
oh, if you knew

the things you cook
in me – the private ways
I steal you like a bandit.

If you were me regarding you
I wonder how long
you could stand it.

.