The man asleep in the bus stop

I drive past and I see the man asleep in the bus stop
I see him from a distance
Then in detail for two and a half seconds
Then I pass

As he sleeps the sun sets
Rises
And sets
Inhale
Exhale
The world furious around him
Destroying itself
Destroying its citizens
Destruction from which he is immune

A bus slows at the shape of the bus stop
I assume the driver sees the man
Slows further still
Then rolls past
The strain of the engine as it accelerates
Inhale
Exhale
Another bus goes past
Another bus
Another bus
The sun sets

He is an exhausted man and I stand there by the bus stop
I blink
He opens his eyes
A tired man
From work
From everything that is not work
From being looked at
I turn to the side
A bus approaches
Then slows
Then stops
In the lane on the road
I look at the man
The man’s head is turned to the side to look at the bus
His body slumped on the chair
Leaning into the corner of the glass walls
He turns his head to me
I look back at the bus
Another car
Stopped on the road
Then the man is gone
The bus is gone
I am gone

I come here because being like you is like drugs
Oh?
Not those kinds of drugs

In the car I pass a bus
The sun is crawling quickly
Slowing on the approach to the horizon
Hesitation
Then a muddled shuffling low in the sky
Confused
Disoriented
Uncertain
As the man sleeps he exhales
The force of the exhale makes him moan
A tired moan
I exhale
There is no sound
And then he is gone

It is night
From the window of the bus I see a stop pass by
A man asleep
Leaning against the glass
Four seconds
Pass
Emptiness
The swollen darkness of the night
The pinching light of street-lamps
Dull sounds
The strain of the engine
Dry air
The sound of rumble and murmur
Sway on the road
A bus stop
Empty

You’ve put this in the wrong place
It should be there
It’s the same place
No
Or yes
And yes
I remember the words
I sense them moving swiftly in the night
Their movements like the ruffling of cloth
A dress worn in a lightless space
No reference
Only sound
The touch of cloth
Supple
Forgiving
Like skin
My skin
And I am there on the skin
Lips pressed against the nipple
I hear the lips part
Exhale
Hands pressing
Pushing
The groan
And the force of entanglement
Muscles changing shape
Fingers entwined
Clutching
Scratching
I want to starve you
The burn of force
Scramble and climax
Teeth breaking the skin
And all the words bleeding out of my shoulder

I see myself drive past in the car
The bus stop
The man asleep in the bus stop
Then I am gone
In the distance a bus approaches