Cigarette Girl

Cigarette Girl (17th June 2008, 11.06am)

I can see your naked hand
on the surface of the table,
tapping a silent rhythm
as we talk about
nothing in particular;
my eyes catch on your
curiously empty fingers,
resting on the glass,
wet from condensation,
and I linger on the corner
of your pretty mouth,
curved into a wry smile
as a stranger walks past
leaving a smoke trail;
I hang, suspended
in your sudden silence,
and you lean and inhale;
others look offended as you
savour her breathings-out;
abstinence is virtue now,
and you are such a sinner;
I know where those hands go,
I’ve been taken there before;
I can see you aching for
that familiar silver packet,
and I can see your eyes slip
to the newsagent window,
and as we sit here and drink
in the sunlight, you start to sink
into needful oblivion;
the conversation dies away;
there’s nothing left to say
except your admission;
words whispered:
‘I need a cigarette’.