Little bits of glitter dropping trails of shimmering as they speckle out into nothing and I’m there my ass is falling asleep on the concrete I’ve waited here sitting watching the sparkle fade for what feels like oh at least the turning of 10 million waves across the sea but I never said whether I meant all at once whether star soup could soothe the soul or not just some wooden planks a whistle of a digital bell that lightly cracks the speakers to ring just over your voice at the other end of the terminal all a little dimmer the fade of the glimmer the legs thinning running down the glass and the wrought frame benches never get any comfier but the wind through the slats gets a little cozier on your back each time the train cuts its teeth passing by on the snow white track that goes off until it fades like glitter dropping from the sky.