Today, 6/14/21, Saturn squares Uranus 
for the second time.  These transits 
aren’t comfy, and they are 
a dance.  Saturn and Uranus do 
their best to write love 
letters, again.

Dear Uranus,

I don’t know what to say
to you.  I don’t know what 
I can say to you.  Power
 
is the only game
I know.  I see it in all 
situations.  I stopped 

seeing people.  I stopped 
seeing you.  And maybe
I never really have seen

you.  I will admit, I am
ruthless, and I do not know 
who you are.  I only knew 

who I could manipulate 
you into, before you broke 
loose, but you keep ebbing 

back into the corners of my mind.  
I can’t get rid of you, no matter 
how much I tell myself morals are 

subjective, and philosophize my way 
out of the pain of you.  Still 
you linger like a phantom limb.  

I see you shimmer, but I don’t 
know how to talk to you.  
I keep thinking, fate
 
will wash you into me, 
if it exists.  I hide in books.
I pretend they are enough.

I miss playing with you.  
I have become too old
to apologize, but I can’t 

forget you.

Love, Saturn

Dear Saturn,

You are right.  You do not know
me.  You only see me as a dream.
You cage me up in your own

fantasies, not caring how
dream-walkers weep.  When I was 
a teen, I wrote my father

a letter.  I told him I desired to live
into the dream that was dreaming me.
I begged for freedom.  I woke up,

full grown, in your prison.  Are you 
the dream that dreams me?  Are you 
sure you dream at all?  Do you ever

risk the vulnerability of stepping into 
what you cannot see? I have learned 
to walk with my eyes closed, or open

to the blackness all around me.
A spark now blooms there, like a rose.
It smells like you.  I have no home.

I do not fear. I welcome you
and death, and life, and love
and tears.  I found the dream

that was dreaming me.  Nothing is
ever as it seems, but at least there
is truth now, growing from the edges

of belief.

Love,
Uranus