I know where you are, I think, but I change my story every time
I'm not sure where you lie, I know that you carve an arc
to Arcturus, the fourth-brightest light in the sky
and to me, I guess, it doesn't matter if that's the star
at which I'm pointing- what matters is that it's there
and for all I care, what matters is what people on Earth
think of me and your muttered glow shining down upon my hair.