THE WEAVE:
The door to the Library
opens, but it’s pitch dark.
Mars is spooked, “Hello?”
"Hi Mars," The Moon whispers from over his shoulder. He jolts, and spills his Cacao, everywhere. "What the fuck, Lunita?" She kisses him on the cheek. "Brew some more? We can drink it, together." Mars puts the kettle on, "So what's up, Lunita?" "I had a vision, last night and I was hoping to write it down here." "So do it." "Well, I'm a little insubstantial, at the moment, but I was hoping you could help me do it." "Sure, why not, I've got a few more days here. I'm sure Mercury won't care." "It's about Surrender." "I hate Surrender." "OK." "OK." "Well... Will you help me write it, anyways?" "Sure, Lunita." Mars sits down, to the type -writer, on the coffee table. The Moon slides in behind him, on the couch, in a smooth movement. Invisible arms, wrap around him, one hand on his heart one on his navel. She rests her chin, in the crook of his neck, and looks over his shoulder as she holds him. And for a moment, Mars does not know if the words are hers or his... "When I was young, one of my chores was to pull weeds, from the cracks in the patio. The more foul my mood, the harder it was, to pull the creepers neatly up, under the beating Sun, but I found, if I asked them to help me uproot them, they would come gently. And I have quietly done this, all my life. Asking weeds to surrender. That is the vision I have, for us, this Moon. May this cycle bring easy weeding, from the root; coming out intact, and making room for new possibility." Mars finishes the dictation, and sighs, wrapping his hands about her thighs, as he leans back, into her. "Surrender does not sound so bad," Mars whispers, as she plays with his hair. Lunita smiles, in the dark of herself, holding him. The kettle starts singing, "Well then, let us drink, to it."
Planetary Signatures 