she sat there like a photograph
of someone much further away
we shared a brief bus stop

on one of those inbetween days
she gave me her smile
and I looked underneath

at the lipstick on her teeth

she asked me for a light

and if I thought her hair looked okay
we grew out of the small talk
into stuff strangers just don't say

we discovered we are both
pleasently furious half of the time
when we're not just toeing the line


we sat underneath the shelter
as the rain came down outside

the bench was cold
against the underside of our thighs
I said I think we need new responses

each question's a revolving door
and she said, yeah,
my life may not be something special

but it's never been lived before

we decided our urgency will wane

when we grow old
and there will be a new generation of anger
new stories to be told

but I said, I don't know if I can wait
for that peace to be mine
and she said, well, you know,

we've been waiting for this bus
for an awfully long time