They look at each other 
Awkwardly 
It’s been thirty five years 
Since they’d last seen each other 
Blood has flowed thinner, starker than water
For the two sisters
Now standing together 

They sit down 
It’s in the younger one’s home 
The older one perches on her seat
Hands clasped around her knees 
Knees bunched together awkwardly

The younger one makes the tea
The steaming, billowing pour 
Softening, mollifying the tension 
That has stretched like taut skin 
Raw, painful, blue-complexioned 
On the surface of the atmosphere 

The older one reaches for the milk 
She pours it into her cup of tea
Hesitates and looks at her 
Wondering if she still drinks it
The same way she did before 

The younger one nods, smiles ever so faintly
She puts the sugar in
Looks at the older one inquiringly 
No, she didn’t have sugar in her tea 
From each other, they both look away 
At the steaming cups on the tray 

The brews in the cups 
Swirl for a while 
Spin and beguile
Then come to rest 
Pulling a film of whey and casein 
Around their hearts
Hiding away from the scene 
Hiding away from the awkwardness 

“Do you remember -“ 
“Do you remember -“
“You used to love the milk skin on the tea” 
“I used to love the milk skin on my tea” 

They look at each other 
At last 
They laugh 
Sweet-awkwardly 
Eyes moist, hearts beating fast 
The tension is torn away
Finally
In the gush of warmth 
From the tea
From she looking at her
From her looking back smilingly

The older one looks at her cup 
The smile still playing on her lips 
She picks up her spoon 
To remove the cream 
Her sister never had it 
Today she wouldn’t too

The younger one looks at her cup
Gazing down at the membrane 
Floating in the milky brew
She picks up her cup 
Her sister always had it 
Today she would too.