I awoke from my second rebirth as the sun rose over the twenty
   metre horizon of Tessier 813 stroke 18 stroke C, a cratered potato
   of carbonaceous chondrite eight hundred metres long by seventy
   broad following an elliptical orbit that took it within three
   hundred thousand kays of Martian orbit at perihelion and just
   short of Jupiter on the return lap. While I was still coughing
   gluey placental fluids out of my lungs, the sun set. Twenty-three
   minutes, fifteen seconds from dawn to dusk, and it was the first day.

Likt en slända spröda vinge ögat skälver.
Solens smälta i ditt hår kring pannan välver.
Du, jag tror vi flyr rakt in i solen.