Testing the Warmth by Lucius Falkland

As we walked to the station you took hold of my hand

As if testing the warmth of a lake

While just about safe on the comfort of land

But I gripped your hand tight. A four year wait

Was over at last. We didn’t need words.

Like a Jacobean dance, a meeting of eyes

Across the hall, a mere touch, it may seem absurd,

Can mean as much as a kiss and can induce stronger highs.