Glasgow Kiss

I had not smelled their breath. With my request to please refrain from smoking on the train, his sudden question came while pinning to the door, "Have you ever had", as forehead smashed my face, "a Glasgow Kiss?" breathed from his lips, falling glasses to the floor. Then peace. For a moment I was blind, blind by short of sight, but heart and breath seemed strange at ease, as turning face to face two men, I spoke the words not quite my own, more heaven's word proclaimed, of Jesus slain, of Jesus blood, of forgiveness and of Jesus love. All safe. Right arm held high to strike was tightly chained. He wrestled but was now held fast by unseen bond, while snarling mouth's salivad froth, with reddened eyes now terrified, his lips could only stutter: WHAT?! and WHAT?! and WHAT?! Yet, peace upon that crowded train, and silence. No sound. Not a move from passengers frozen both in time and heart, save one brave man who crawled on fours and picking up my lense and frame held up from floor for me to take while I stood near to wait, to wait by opened doors. Still peace. As though all time stood still, and all of it was mine to do, to do as I would will, and doors would close just when I chose, not before or late, as I stood by those open doors, as safe beside those men as platform's near escape. No rush. And when I chose to leave, the doors came to their close. I will never know what scene was left that day. But I believe and witness this, that heaven had its way. no bruise was on my face, my lens eased back in place. High heaven came to kiss that day, and I can only pray kissed Glasgow on his face.