Napkin Edges

The napkin dropped — a sudden flutter, caught

in spilled coffee, stained and dark.

Words slipped out, unthreaded seams,

a secret bending close to me.

I swallowed hard, my mouth went dry,

sudden weight in ribs and sky.

This wasn't mine. The crackle loud

of paper lost in stormy doubt.

I held the silence folded tight,

and left the story in the night.