Only as the sun shines
Rising to the dawning of eyes—had I realise
we are then only seen beautiful, as like stars of night

The astrologer said to me, “the markings of your skin,
be as tiny dots of stars. Imperfectly perfect, as constellations
tell their stories”

I stored her knowledge,
upon the wisdom wrapped by lips—still with the
wondrous mind of child, we all want to discover

So as the child of the astrologer, I went out
into the world to discover, all not yet discovered.