Brief Bus Stop

she sat there like a photograph

of someone much further away

we shared a brief bus stop

on one of those in-between 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

pleasantly 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