The Touch

I noticed the tiniest touch of your hand,
the gentlest touch of your trembling hand -
your nervously circumspect, curious hand -
your touch is the touch I can never withstand
so all of the clever remarks I had planned
are out of the window, beyond my command.

Perhaps I am wrong and your touch was unplanned?
No, I think that by now I can read your shorthand;
your touch was a touch only I’d understand
and though your remark seemed quite wry and offhand,
in fact that’s just well-rehearsed, cool sleight-of-hand.
You knew that your touch would make our hearts expand 
and keep us enthralled in this sleepless Dreamland
with both of us up to our necks in quicksand.