Saturnalien

Set atop a gossameric membrane —

A garrison against the abyssal dark of a great sea,

Stellar in its expanse —

They tell you,

Saturn would float.

A colossal giant,

Weighing light against the deep,

Bobbing along like a hollow gale,

A breath —

Severed from the winds.

Guards march the orbit of its gravity’s reach.

Armigerous rings of granular, boulder-hewn and mountainous sculptures of ice,

Holding in tight formation around a body that cannot be touched.

A seemingly formidable celestial being —

A structured vacuum.

A disjointed exile —

A queen of the masquerade.

Beyond the rings,

Beneath a shroud of volatile clime,

Is a barren world.

Thousands of miles of a tempestuous void,

A gaseous slurry of supercritical fluid and imprisoned atoms,

With not even an inch of solid ground,

To stand up,

Against external forces.