in the soundless chambers of time and space
it was born.
small and insignificant;
its face blotchy and fat with flesh—
a sputtering mess on its own—
eyes glowing bright,
the stars illuminated in response to it,
their dust reflective and vain compared to its eyes.
Their tongue was made of moonshine
and dry with stardust.
They were in but the child of
oblivion, unknown and renowned,
it babbles softly in the fibers of space and time,
the universe crying mercilessly for answer.
Yet the child will only coo,
its heavenly body occupied with more timely affairs.