conflagration

A Zodiac Love Poem From Me to Me

A/N: I’ve always been one of those people who felt I matched my sun sign, Aquarius, really well in regard to both the positives and the negatives. Creative, open-minded? Yes. Aloof/detached at times and stubborn? Also yes. When I first found out my moon sign a year ago though, I didn’t get it. Aries? Hot-headed, impulsive, entrepreneurial Aries?? But reading into it deeply really helped me see how this side of me manifested in my closest personal relationships and allowed me to understand myself on a deeper level. It also prompted me to think about how these dual aspects of me- sun and moon- play together and inform one another when it comes to living life in my own way and my drive to achieve my goals. This poem is like a conversation between my sun and moon, a meeting and a melding of purpose.

conflagration

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i. aquarius sun

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at eight years old I made a box inside my home

my home, because even in

the four walls of my heart’s growing chambers

I had to make something purely

me.

.

inside of the box I painted green

I swelled in gestation,

birthing my future self

who crawled right out and sat,

pondering the odds:

why possible is my favorite word,

how I can decry

the nonsensical parables of flight

put forth by whimsical dreamers

while spending my nights studying

the mechanics of wings.

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everywhere I go I bring myself.

I used to think this was a curse, but

now it only saves time, cuts out those

who flinch back or laugh at

the rawness of my crooked soul,

tagging on my heels like an ugly familiar,

a shadow I’m loyal to through the

bone, but also resent, dear zodiac,

because I would like to be beholden

to no one and sometimes this includes me

and yet

if I leave it behind I will never

forgive myself.

.

whoever said the head is an animal

is one hundred percent right, and the

terror of that creature is that it is both

caged and free, a crazy record smacking and

grinding out of tune.

sometimes it makes me tired.

sometimes all I want is to sleep,

accept an easy answer,

let the blood of outer living

run down my chin.

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ii. aries moon

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in dreams I imagine myself

one elbow out the window of a convertible car,

sleek and black like a pavement panther, groaning with

gearshift history.

cigar hanging from my lips, I

hit the gas and my heart lightens,

unafraid.

.

I am jacking up tomorrow’s promises on the way home to

a lit castle where I’ll sip Amarone and pray

to every person I’ve ever loved and the ghosts

in me, too,

exchanging secrets in my state-of-the-art hot tub with

my closest friends and family, our smiles crooked

moonbeams. To think, we’ll laugh, voices echoing

over acres of tender night,

to think they ever doubted us.

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in day, I perform business meetings, smelling

of dark cologne, smiling

at opportunities kindly like children.

everyone thinks they know me,

and this could be its own poem.

I do not ever get close;

I do not ever lie.

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I have taken a giant bite of fear and am

no longer afraid, fluttering my fingers at

the wind- this heat and my sun, my center, we understand

one another at last.

we have all wanted nothing more than for my eyes

to become a rich brown haven, a cave

for those who need to be hidden, and then, all at once,

seen.

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I don’t want to break anyone’s heart.

I only want to enter my own.

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iii. air meets fire

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every year is spent blustering on,

water-bearing bucket growing heavy,

wild wind rushing forward

blind to destination until the day

my solitary sun angles for

my hidden moon and something catches

the resounding refraction

like light glancing off a funhouse

of mirrors in a desert full of naked

trees.

.

flame.

here we go, I can finally hear their

dry branches creak, let us make some

magic.

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letting go, it turns out

is a lot like falling apart.

there’s a comfort now in knowing

I am only ever the sum of my parts

but those parts by god

those parts are made

of stars.