"busgirl" poems
It's a Saturday night
Busy, loud
No time to relax
Wiping off tables
And filling up glasses
She is the busgirl
Stressed out and rushed
She runs to the door
In the bread room he stands
Tall, unready
Belt still in hand
He flashes her a smile
She’s seen him before
Months prior to this
Remembering without hesitation
Unfocused and dazed
She forgets what she needed
Running out embarrassed
Sending food in and out
The kitchen door swings
Through the little window she sees him
With warm set eyes
And a smirk thats contagious
She catches it like the flu
Cant hold back
Both thinking, searching for a reason
To get another glance
The rush of her blood
Anticipation on her mind
He turns the corner
Cutting in front of him
He tugs on her hair
She blushes
The night comes to an end
He walks her out
Dragging with each step
In his car they wait
Conversation still growing
Effortlessly, comfortable
Not wanting it to be over
She kisses him on the cheek
This is the end of a new beginning
Oct 20, 2011
Oct 20, 2011 at 12:45 AM UTC