Mars is redder than I expected,
like a forgotten ember in the dark,
rolling dunes hum ancient tales.
Did you hear Venus' silent storms?
They paint her in a secret symphony...
Orbiting below Saturn,
I felt time's hand slip,
wrapping around moons,
weaving dreams in night rings.
Do stars dream of us?
From the edge of Neptune's tears,
the whispers echo louder,
tracing lightyears back,
to the first breath of night—
always dancing, always.