brief bus stop
Brief Bus Stop
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
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