Warm, human body on a cold bench in the quiet hours of the morning.
Tiny eyes gaze into the infinite. Hoping for a sign,
a rhyme, looking into a time
long gone, far away.

Comet trails hover in nothingness and the small planet floats past.
The little people watch streaks twist and turn
fall and burn
onto the canvases of their minds.

+ + +

Girl: She thought of gravity and falling into the sky. Maybe one day she will. She stopped shivering minutes ago. Pushed her glasses up and watched the sky intently. Just one, for me. She thought. I gave the rest away. Just one for me. And from the left emerged a sprightly white firefly trace an unfamiliar path across the sky and the blood rushed to her head when she got up.