I have no wish to while the time
With rosy thoughts of you;
Of tangled limbs in sweaty sheets,
Of gentle jokes that flew;
I do not long to see your face
In corners of my mind;
Fantasize of gestures grand
Or even the most minute sign:
A smile, a touch, a shiny glance
That speaks of untoward circumstance.
So if I want to be alone,
Why am I staring at my phone?