every day
she takes my money.
I hand her
a bill and wait for her
arm to
reach out with change.
we say
little, but hello.
goodbye.
we smile.
there is the metal
of my car,
the half rolled window,
the anxious next car
behind me
that keeps us from
knowing one another, from
falling
in love and living
happily ever after.
there always seems
to be something
or someone in the way.
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