when i burn for you and i do not care for anything but you , i use this path , for it is as direct as my desire-past the royal 's sleeping quarters , past all teachers ' rooms , on to the border , there to creep over unforgiving gravel below every student 's dormitory window , not caring that an errant head might poke out between curtains after curfew and recognize me-and so once again , in the urgency of my need , i come to your window and you .