We had nothing in common between us,|
except an ashtray to preserve our short history
in soft layers of burnt out tobacco mâché
fallen in figures a tea-leaf reader might
the story of two smokers,
who bypassed small talk
and struck up a conversation.
unused to talking to anyone on break,
feeling like they had broken routine.
with just enough scattered recall between us
to remember to empty the ashtray
before we went back in.