Bus Stop

You won’t remember this,
But to me, I’ll never forget it.

It was a small moment
Short and sweet, on a Friday;
Barely thirty minutes out of the twenty-four I had that day,
But overwhelmingly the best part of the entirety.

I remember everything
From the blue sky that matched your shirt with the crooked collar
To the way I scraped my feet on the sidewalk,
As we sat by that bus stop
Our hands barely touching,
Our laughter mixing into one giant note-
The buttons on my boots clicking to the rhythm of the gentle wind.

I cherish that moment.
As we stared into each other’s eyes
You refusing to break the gaze because you did not want to lose, me refusing to break the gaze because I wanted to spend every last second with you-
Me secretly wishing that you wanted me, too.
What I don’t remember is
Who Did break the gaze first.
And why.
But that’s one detail I’ll gladly sacrifice
Because I just want to remember the way
We talked about nothing and everything
As oblivious pedestrians passed oblivious You,
Unaware of my eyes that conveyed
than what I said.

Bus Stop

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