The Sun

She stared into the sun. 'The rays are not for everyone.' She placed the thought back in the deep; 'the presence of it would light me meek..' She replaced her gaze back to a face; before it was, the sun replaced. And there eyes lingers upon a frown The air stayed stagnate, the sound, abound. "What do you think?" He said out loud. Rather flustered on his mound. Mound of dirt and grass; all dead but, there he stilled; slouch seated, full head. '..what do I think..?' Mind talking Mouth closed So much inside.. No tongue arose A finger scratching at her nose. "..I don't understand this...what's the point..?" she rubbed her knee to feel her joints "What do you mean?" He stared and ask. "..to conjure words are such a task.." She hoped her tone would give a mask A last! He stilled preceded to ask ..oh she wished she had her flask.. "What's the point.. really.. my words and yours the exchange of thoughts the current that's heard We know we're different yes you and I but this warmth this heat It sets and bides.. And there we sit at it resides.." ... And then the silence came As both agreed, no words could gain but, the heat took over and kept them warm the usual unusual comfort: Yes, there's core but, let's just keep that at the door. If it happens, something more. They both stared into the sun. Yes The rays are not for everyone. But, the day could still give out such fun.