Curious Little Critter

I’m ill with the thought of your kiss
Intoxicating other mundane souls
Not belonging to this very own
Who speaks verses for you, unknown

I’m ill with the thought of your hands
Electrifying bodies with their warmth
And yet here, this wretched soul
Shivers enviously, in the dark

I’m ill with the thought of your breath
Mingling dangerously among the rest
What to do with this heart
That near to you beats its best?

What a curious little critter
In your shadow I have become
Always hoping for the best
But always getting just the crumbs