the truest beauty …
On that rainy windswept night, when we took shelter under a leaking bus stop,
shivering as invisibles, scratched out of this world’s pitiless sight.
We spoke at length, as the buses passed us by,
we bared our souls to each other, as strangers often do,
laughing about how we roamed these avenues without a clue.
We spoke of excruciating truths, of life’s random cruelty, of our hopes and of our dreams, of our small joys and of our fears,
as we stood under that leaking bus stop, the rain streaking down cheeks that were salty with tears.
I barely saw you, and you could hardly see me, in the rain and in the fog,
as we laughed and cried together, sharing feelings of being swamped in life’s quicksand tugging bog.
We spoke so much that rainy night, we shared what we could not share…
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