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