It's Still Life

A poem starting with a line from Poem for Passengers by M. Zapruder and ‘writely‘ molested by Shakespeare (unlikely, but possible)

A 33 Word Poem

Like strangers on a train
who find themselves moving
in same directions,

looking out the window
without downing books,
thus Fate, that strumpet,

doth but feign
to keep our margins
free of stain.