The kitchen table

Her hand shakes,
Smoke mimics its creator,

A mouth,
I have known for so long,

Yet only now it opens,
Words dance between us,

Like passing years they shuffle into corners,
Bowed and wide eyed,

Just as I and the story given,
by a girl I have yet to know.

My first time to sit alone
With her,

At our kitchen table,
And not pretend to understand.