I saw you from the other side of the cubicle, Asian boy. You sit languidly at your desk, hands like tornadoes over the keyboard as you whip up your beautiful, beautiful Powerpoint. I sigh with the ecstasy of a million infatuated school girls just eying the way your bulging arm muscles quiver subtly as you type. Your white button-up....fabric just thin enough to see through it the ghost of your satin-caramel skin. Your perfect, stainless khakis, somehow devoid of wrinkles, as always. Never would I think to find a diamond in the rough of an air-conditioned office. You always complain to me that many people think you aren't full Asian, but mixed. That's because you look half Asian, half-sex god. I know you've been working out all this summer. Your body has become my Medusa. Oh, Mr. ibanker, you paralyze me! Forget about IPOs, let's merger.