She steps off the train into a blinding sun
that sends sharp flares of light
    lancing
    through her eyes
                 her clothes
                 her skin
                 her flesh
and into the bones of her skull
where they crystallize and scab over
embedding themselves in her brain

        like shards of mental glass
                or imaginary diamonds, maybe

            something glittering and beautiful
                    and piercingly painful

        even when it’s intangible

                especially when it’s only make-believe.

She picks at the light like the scab it is
while the platform empties around her
and she watches the train
        the peaceful train that carried her safely
        through the night
        to this new sunrise

watches it speed off into the west

                run, my dear train
                buy yourself a few moments of time
                before the sun’s diamond-glass knives catch up with you

and, when the silver reflection is lost to the shadows
she hefts her suitcase
and turns to face the sun
        beating back the broken-glass light
        with a knife-sharp grin of her own.