Love in Transit

She knows,
I have taken this bus
every weekday
for the past three years

She knows,
The hopeless cold floors
Thick grimy air
Spilt drink on the seats

She knows,
The same faces
Going through the same routine
Down the same road
In the same dead atmosphere

She knows.

The bus couldn’t go
where I wanted us to be
closed eyes drove
Through busy streets

Red lights turned green
Go
I’m lost
Sickened with yellow

Speeding thoughts
Rushing through my mind
Like cars on a highway
My heart screech’s

To a stop
The car door swings open
I told her where we were
Where I wanted us to be

But her heart was in another place
Maybe a meadow
A beach, who knows?
I drove home alone

She was my newspaper
Every morning
I’d read
Her eyes

I’d learn of
Her complaints
Her struggles
Her life

I wanted to be an article

Every afternoon
I’d read
Her eyes

Hoping that tomorrow
I’d see myself
In the brown ink
Of her pupil

Now my column is vacant
As the seat she would take beside me
At every stop
Our distance lengthens