Narcissus-X meditates on epicurean undulating ungulates: sinuous cetaceans swimming through silver seas.
Sleek sirenians, dour dugongs, derisive porpoises cackling.
Ripples under a silent moon, waveless currents in a sunless sea.
Enceladus, frozen sphere or spawn of the burning plain. Perhaps both. Did Athena's spear reach the cordons of Saturn?
No matter. For Narcissus-X turns away from the sun, faces the dark.
The ebon wall of night. Are they stars? Or tiny cracks: vaster than worlds.