The purest moments
Sitting on that bus with two and three
Standing in the cold with a constant ringing rhythm in my wrist
Nodding to strangers
Frigid air freezing lip smiles in place
Coins colliding with other coins
And stuck dollar bills
Rewarded by thank yous
Overpowered by the ever-ringing bell
Feet hopping from step to step
And stiff limbs doing a dance
Gentle banter with the cross brothers
Followed by the budding romance of the dimly lit bus
The near crushed dreams of next weak
The realization that all these experiences are temporary
The most pure moments
How I wish they could last forever
Though the thought itself is a piece of that same bittersweet purity