They say the envious will have their vying eyes wired shut,
and their lips sealed like empty sepulchers.
And yet, in spite of this,
I think I’ll covet you until the end of my days
For if I cannot look upon your face and feel it { mine }
                                                             ­                    I’d rather not see

And if I cannot say your name, and ******* { claim }
                                                             ­                    I’d rather not speak.

Covetous?
Perhaps

Envious?
Always.