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The bus rolls on through rainy streets
You smoke a poem at your window seat
The world refused to spin again
And you're still waiting — but not for when
Your coat smells like the bitter rain
Too much bar smoke, not enough flame
The hallway light begins to fade
Like you do when I’ve gone away
In between years, between two days
Between the questions no one prays
Between the sighs drawn on your skin —
I stand and don’t know who you’ve been
You say it’s just another phase
But it’s been seventeen damn days
We hang like laundry in the hall
And no one wants to hold us at all
In between nights, in borrowed time
Between the things we leave behind
Between two songs, off-beat and blurred —
We're far too much, and never just
I’ll bring your books back tomorrow
And your old sweater
If I remember
