show and tell

she tells me that she's
from new jersey
as she pours another shot
of scotch on the rocks
into my glass.
i don't hold it
against her,
i tell her that we
have no control of what
our parents did to us.
let it go.
she shows me a molar
in back of her mouth.
it's twisted around
the wrong way.
strange you tell her,
as she pulls her mouth
open with her fingers.
I had appendicitis
when I was a kid, I offer,
pulling the top of my
pants down just enough
to show her a rubbery
pale scar.
more scotch, she says,
pouring as she asks.
sure I tell her.
why not? i'm trying to
stop smoking, she says,
lighting a cigarette
and blowing a smoke ring
into the dull
yellow light of her house.
i'm thinking about
starting I tell her.
she laughs. we have so much
in common.
we do, I tell her,
taking her hand
from across the table
and feeling a finger that
is crooked and bent.
got it caught in a door
when I was kid, she says.
to which I say. nice.
I like it.