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