A quiet question rose inside me—
barely formed barely conscious
The sky reacted instantly
rippling constellations into new shapes
Stars shifted with deliberate precision
rearranging ancient mathematics
to articulate what I barely dared to ask
The universe listened
Light curled toward me
folding its brilliance into a message
only my bones could interpret
Recognition thundered without sound
When the night settled
a new constellation hovered overhead—
sketched in my likeness
answering what I had not spoken