Posted in Poems

Uncertain

In Canada, I can predict [sigh] with ninety-nine percent certainty that
there’s another bus behind us.

Do ya got a light?
Your body language is starting to tell me that you aren’t interested.

I just find it fun to do my hair.
When’s the last bus?
Should I be dramatic about it, kind of?
There’s another bus.

Roast? Yea, that sounds like a Sunday kind of dinner.

-10.23.16

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Author:

Trying to find the right words.

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