Why is the bus so bright inside?
Clearly exposing the man sitting at the back?
Making a hard left turn in front of me. Incandescent, I see a man finishing sun-flower seeds,
And looking through glass, and my rolled-up windows, my avoidant eyes make contact, then I realize...he is me. Traveling on a slow-soul-train to downtown or whatever it may be, eyes lock for a moment and I wish him freedom.