I watched two women,
Blond and brunette,
Converse.
Through scratched and beaten plastic
I watched them weave magic with their hands,
Waving words into being,
Pulling them from the air silently
While the bus jostled them noisily.
Phalangic dissertations,
Stylisticly lexical differences
Marked by sharp fingers,
Syntactical personality shifts
With flowing wrists.
Blonde reached out,
Stamping her words with emotion.
Brunette leaned,
Casually carving logos from ether.
Filled with smiles,
Filled with life.
The angle of the carpus
The only difference
Between never and forever.