What potions have I drunk of Siren tears?
Shakespeare, Sonnet CXIX
Two thousand years ago, Ptolemy
traced the vagaries of the stars
and was left immortal for that
and I, too, yearn for the taste
of ambrosia. So here I lie, on
moonless nights, writing my
own Almagest, as I trace the
constellations formed by the
stardust of your nevi.