Synastry: The Loving
Poem #4 in a series on love and astrological alignment
His love is Like indigo evening air with galvanic veins of lightning. Like the eye of the hurricane guarding you from turbulent gusts that circle around. Like the liberator of your soul finding a safe home for it in his heart. Questioning everything internally, in files, in drawers, inside, until he can iron them out to articulate them perfectly, just for you. A quizzical charisma that captures many, but trusts few because he’s cultivated safety in solitude. Still, every day, he draws from his bottomless well of encouragement and freely tosses it away to all. The wedding of logic and imagination in a man of few romantic sentiments out loud. His feelings are his best-kept secret that you discovered lies flat beneath his silver tongue. A poem without poeticism, but the sweetest illustration and delivery through breezy eyes and his tornado embrace with your hefty inhale of believing the unspoken. He speaks in memories and reminders of those unfathomably tender moments in which he first seduced you with his delicious unorthodox. He tries to be charming he misses the mark, because he doesn't know how alluring he is when he just is.
Her love is like the fierce protector, Artemis, defending your honor to the death in secret as she trails your every footprint until her final pounce. Like a stallion prancing around the open meadow of your soul, her wild mane whipping in the wind. Like your savior come to set you free from the mundane by entrapping you in her impassioned smother. Goddess of the wilderness, she shows you how she lives among the towering trees and befriends the burly beasts. As you witness her world you wipe away the swelter of intimidation from your forehead and accept her thrills and threats. You realize her brush fire burning affection is more salacious than your once favorite dirty dream. It's her slow smolder that stole your heart through her devil smirk like a magnet to your eyes as you attempt to peer into her head. You yearn to read her feral thoughts like the fantasy novel beside your bed. But you find her ideas are not in structured sections. They are in scattered sketches in a journal. Blabbering, bouncing from page to page. She's flickering, fluttering, flaking. Facetiousness to distract from the darkness that exists deep within the acres of a formidable forest she avoids. Rummaging, foraging, she lives for the chase and you could be her permanent prey if you so choose. She told you that her spirit is made to wander beyond these woods. She wants you to come along for the adventure. The choice is yours whether you wish to embark on an exploration together. Of several new worlds and pleasures. Of physical as well as emotional, psychological, and spiritual.
A love story inspired by The Zodiaco Collection by feminist poet, Brooke Solis.
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