Accidental Touch

The crowded train rushes down the tracks

Worm-holing through the night

From Amsterdam Central to Paris North

The roar and rumble blend into the inner walls and quaking windows Til they become a dark and silent breathing.

Your head falls slightly to my side The weight of your streaming hair Lies like a wreath across my shoulder.

The moments stretch their glowing wink across my watch face.

In the morning, meeting with a customer -

I should move away and get some sleep

But I’m entangled in the thrall of

The guilty innocence of

The delectable deniability of

The once in a lifetime of

The don’t let it end of

The accidental touch.