Timoha-Duras Taos sat on a rock, and looked at the Sun, with protective visors. Strong energy that bends lines.
Their eyes locked.
You dance all around, as you arc.
Are you ‘Aten,’ he asked to himself?
He basked in it’s glory-filled illuminance.
How you dance along with my vision…
What gases make you viewable?
What fantastical dreams The Little Cosmic Tiny Dancer embedded in.
Your cousin, Alpha Centauri, Progenitor of light, recently bursted a solar flare… when do you follow suit?
“I find the shade just as delirghtful, but we see all things because of you...”
