We rowed through the misty ink river on our lunar orange slice, swiftly paddling ‘tween the spiky star mines.

But part o’ us wondered, These starbursts are so shiny; ¿How could they be dangerous?

But we ne’er touched them. Sure, we reached an arm toward them a few times; but every time we’d yank it back, for as we neared it its points seemed to sharpen.

So we keep rowing round the stars & the stars keep floating round us.