Across the way you rest,

One leg folded towards your chest,

The other tapping out a beat

And my cheeks flush with heat.

I didn't ask to pick you as my 'type',

To no other you're worth the hype,

Yet the simple fact Asimov's in your hands,

Makes me want you like no other in the lands.

You do not look at women in any way,

Your hormones will surely take 'til doomsday,

Unrelenting cruelty can pass from your lips,

Your beautiful mouth forms biting quips.

I dream of concentrating on another,

Yet it is fruitless to concentrate on any other,

The ones I would like are as asexual as you,

And therefore it's pointless to trade old for new.

One day I hope to get my revenge,

Even if you've been to Stonehenge,

There will be a time no woman will look,

And my vengeance will be sweeter than any book.