“aquarius, you have fallen in love with the storm again,”
the august horoscope reads.
it is almost—but not quite—correct.
for the sake of astrological accuracy
it might be revised to read,
“aquarius, you have fallen
in love—” (this part
“—aquarius, you have fallen in love
in the sticky heat of summer,
the air as damp as your skin,
heat rising from the tarmac
of this flat swamp town.”
or perhaps, “aquarius,
it will not feel like a storm.
there will be no lightning bolts,
no thunder. there will be no fire
under your skin.”
“aquarius, your love will be slow and soft.
it will be the sound of leaves rustling and pages turning,
of songs sung quietly in a dark bedroom, of cell phones ringing
at the most inopportune moment.
it will be the smell of dinner cooking. aquarius,
will be his body pressed against yours
as you sit on the kitchen counter at 2am
quietly drinking tea, and
it will be losing