Intimacy and the defense against it.
O, hello Scorpio!
Even naked I hold
a suitcase of secrets.
— Lisa Allen Ortiz,
A Scorpio song, Sung by a Scorpion!
Sun/Neptune in Scorpio,
and a molehill/mountain of Virgo:
Aries Moon. Jupiter in Taurus,
Merc in Sag. Saturn in Aqua, North Node in Gemini!
Venus in Libra!
Gemini Moon today,
let’s have another version then:
This cut features Elvin Jones, Epic Virgo.
He is one of my all time fav drummers!
His Timing! Mars, Mercury, Venus, and Sun in Virgo.
Precise! So where does he get that kink?
It’s his moon in Aqua, and a Jupiter/Uranus conjunction in Aries!
Surprise! An advance, forward thinking!
None can speak as well for Scorpio, as Sylvia.
Scorpio Sun, and Mercury. Libra Moon.
Plenty of Virgo for her too. Venus Jupiter Neptune.
Mars in Leo, Uranus in Aries, Pluto in Crab.
North Node in Pisces, and Saturn in Capricorn.
This time let’s hear about resurrection.
For Scorpio there can always be life after death.
Not easy to state the change you made.
If I’m alive now, then I was dead,
Though, like a stone, unbothered by it,
Staying put according to habit.
You didn’t just toe me an inch, no –
Nor leave me to set my small bald eye
Skyward again, without hope, of course,
Of apprehending blueness, or stars.
That wasn’t it. I slept, say: a snake
Masked among black rocks as a black rock
In the white hiatus of winter –
Like my neighbors, taking no pleasure
In the million perfectly-chiseled
Cheeks alighting each moment to melt
My cheek of basalt, they turned to tears
Angels weeping over dull natures,
But didn’t convince me. Those tears froze.
Each dead head had a visor of ice.
And I slept on like a bent finger.
The first thing I saw was sheer air
And the locked drops rising in a dew
Limpid as spirits.
Many stones lay
Dense and expressionless round about.
I didn’t know what to make of it.
I shone, mica-scaled, and unfolded
To pour myself out like a fluid
Among bird feet and the stems of plants.
I wasn’t fooled. I knew you at once.
Tree and stone glittered, without shadows.
My finger-length grew lucent as glass.
I started to bud like a March twig:
An arm and a leg, an arm, a leg.
From stone to cloud, so I ascended.
Now I resemble a sort of god
Floating through the air in my soul-shift
Pure as a pane of ice. It’s a gift.~
Sylvia’s use of sound and timing is matchless.
A sort of stilted hyper-inventive jazz.
I couldn’t love it more.
Kind of an impatient day today, watch and learn.
The Moon kicks over to Crab manana, where we breathe more deeply.