His graceful fingers softly brushed
over my thigh in a languid stroke,
sending a parade of shivers along.
Slanting him a sideways glance,
meeting blue sky experience
embedded in a roadmap of life weariness.
With a crooked smile and a raised
eyebrow he simply stated;
-Had we been born in the same era
I’d make **** sure these legs
would never walk out on me.

The imprint of his hand stayed
as a melancholic afterthought
long after I had wrapped up
the meeting and left for the airport.
Unfortunately the flight
did not include time travel,
which has been a top priority
on my wish-list lately...