Friday Afternoon

the talk of heads
that all smile later
the fold of arms
the read news-paper

the bus stop
traffic, agitation
the driver’s late
the conflagration

the number plate
to run a red light
to have even tried

the ticket stub
the validation
the tender fare
the invitation

the glossy smile
the magazines
the expectation

relationships that pass
through glances, a
two-second sojourn
that takes no chances

the nameless faceless
careless farewells
the hollow echo of a
concrete stairwells

then finally
the door you seek
to hide behind
till Monday next week



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