The Fever

I love to watch you when you don't know I'm there. I stood outside the glass, wet and dripping from the rain. I envied your dryness. I envied that smile on your face, for I was not the cause. I watch how Time encircles that handsome expression, it clings like mysterious moss upon a surface. I long for that slippery, green smoothness you call your Love. I'm starting to get the chills, I'm sure I have a fever. My blood boils, but I cannot tell if it's physical, or the workings of my imagination. You're worth the fever, standing here, alone, the rain does not hamper my curiosity.