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