That One Time

That song came on, a forgotten beat,

and suddenly the air grew thin.

A hand, just there, so firm and sweet,

the low curve of my back, within

that dim, small room, where nothing else

mattered but that single press.

A quiet language, ringing bells,

a kind of truth, a raw caress.

It wasn't gentle, not quite soft,

but sure, a weight that held me true.

Lifted me up, somehow aloft,

to something fiercely, deeply new.

And now the coffee shop hums loud,

the barista calls out a name.

Just a phantom touch, in the crowd,

a flicker of a long-lost flame.