Mekheroteyhem, Utah, 3 February 2017

I could sing a shapely cosmos if I cared to, I said,

But silence forgets me at every breath, yes. Starlight,
Answered daughter, I like the name Starlight.
You could have named me that. Body protested,
But you had to exist, first, and grow up enough
To consult before I could have known your preference,
And even now, I know what you don't, what you won't
For a while, that preferences change. Once,
When I was eighteen, I fell in love with a catasterism
And fancied being known as Orion. Now,
If I had to pick, I would prefer something untranslatable,
Damn near unpronounceable, unknowable, at least
Unknown. Pretentious, I know, but that's because
While preferences evolve rapidly, character tends
To a relative stability, and my character ever dreamed
Of being rather more impressive than it knew it was.
Oh Papa, don't be silly. I still like Starlight, you said.
So do I, said I, meaning something else, meaning light.