Bus Ride

Two hours away, and one stopover.
The conductor screams, “Five minutes!”
But we both know it’s an eternity.
I woke up and stare at you,
Angelic face—
Calm—
Sleeping with soft snores—
Until the man selling barbeque woke you up.
You curse under your breath
And then face me.
The irritation on your face faded quickly
While you ran your hand through your hair.
You leaned your head against the seat in front of you
And tried to go back to sleep.
The bus moved.

Two hours away, and one stopover.
The conductor screams, “Five minutes!”
But we both know it’s an eternity.
You look at me and smile,
Pointing to the clock that reads 5:50 P.M.
The usual noise filled the bus once more—
Macapuno, barbeque, C2, mani, balut, and penoy—
And I looked away, sighing.
You ask me a ridiculous question
But I still answered.
We smiled, our bodies curled in our seats,
The space small.
My head was leaning against your seat,
Yours was leaning against mine.
Barriers removed,
I wished it was your shoulder I was leaning on.
You look at me,
Those swirls of black,
And flashed me that smile again.
The bus moved.
The clock read 5:55 P.M.

Two hours away, and one stopover.
The conductor screams, “Five minutes!”
I know it’s an eternity.
I look outside, sighing,
And then looked at the seat next to me.

No one sat there.

The bus moved.

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