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