Nervously she sits,
Fidgety, afraid.
Across from her
A man-
A man with beard and braids.
Oh why,
Why are you afraid?
And what are we to do?
I'm afraid my dear
This is how it is,
That man's across from you.
Quite hurriedly
She glances round,
Careful not to stare.
An awkwardness is settling in,
Of that they're both aware.
A slip of hand,
His coffee spills.
It's all a dripping mess.
He leans across to help her
Wipe the mess up from her dress.
The tension builds,
It's all too much,
His touch has caused a stir.
He continues on a moment more
Aware of this and her.
She's breathing now
Quite heavily.
He can feel it on his chest.
And with his hand
He strokes her cheek
And there does let it rest.
She moves across
And he sits down,
Their bodies side to side.
They turn towards each other
As if pulled by a strong tide...
'Unlikely tale!'
I hear you say,
'Romantic and untrue!'
But mind you wait,
On the last train home
This may just happen to you.