low fuel warning the ship slingshots into mercury
touchdown the face on mars has an earring
molten amber turning blue sand green dry lips purse in pleasure
a tooth pops out the sea dragon swears off lifesavers
torches flicker in silver eyes pitchforks stab the night
autumn comes to a dyson tree snowflakes fall
they find in the ice a vimana of the gods: narada’s concorde
she changes her clothes, her face, her color, her shape the bids skyrocket