Unseen Contact

A flicker, soft—a single lash

rests lightly, caught, begins to clash

with skin that’s not its own, a guest

in a silent moment, pressed.

The subway hums—a blur of sound,

faces close but none profound.

A breath held tight, a startled glance,

a tiny thread in happenstance.

No one sees but I do—there,

a fragile line that slips through air.

An eyelash on a stranger’s cheek,

a whispered fault I dare not speak.