Anticipation drove me to want you. 

You see academia through the lens of objectivity, 

through the rationale of perfectly spaced checkboxes

and politely declining saturday dinners because

“I really do have that Human Geography due in two days.” 

You treat stress with benevolence, 

the matter-of-fact splash of weeks, slippery

like dead fish; 

only your hook may terminate the thrashing of helplessness, the

cold rush of fear when your clammy fists hit the desk

and lament “oh bother.”

Because miles away – somewhere across the interwoven streets of London,

a young man forgot to do his homework last night.