THE MATH: (Lilith + Taurus) SQUARE (Pluto + Capricorn) = The Bones


Lilith checks in, on the Water

Sprites in hell…
"So, Pink, how you feeling?"
Lilith asks.

"Snuffly, but healing," Pink says.

"HBU Green?" Lilith asks.

"I feel good still.
I'm just, like, remaining
calm, and bunting other people's
fear aWay, and resting,"
Green responds.

"I get that.  It  was fear 
parkour, in the Desert.
Everyone was all like,
'Aren't you scared
of getting raped, or kidnapped?'
It's like, HELLO,
I was born a woman,
the fear is in
our DNA, I do not need
the Desert, for that."

"What did you need
the Desert for?" Pink asks.

"For healing my nervous system,
and being alone, and crying a lot,
and learn about
how I am most naturally
mySelves, and doing Nothing,
and feeding my body.
"Here," Lilith says, and tosses
the Water Sprites her diary,
"I sucked the venom out,
 and poured it
into this, last Winter."

…The Water Sprites Read

excerpts, from Lilith’s Desert Diary…
12/25/20 Transit:
North Node in GEMINI sesquisquare
        the native Saturn AQUARIUS

We like to pretend today is
Christ’s birthday. And I think 
I am probably celebrating
as Well as any other native,
cut from the Book he never wrote.

My blood celebrates his eternity,
inside the Garden of which I have been
cast out.  I dust myself off 
in the Desert, confronting what is left
of my daemons, like him.

I sleep each night on bolts of fabric
I could not bear to part with,
surrounded by what remains
of the medicine I set in motion
in that Eden. These rugs

are prayerful portals, and I Love them
as such.  I am learning the language
of the Desert, and what it means
to be with it.  I am learning how
a cloudy evening will be warmer

than a clear one, and the Way
the Moon silvers itself on the sand
roads, as bright as snow.
The rocks here speak differently
than the stone walls of my Garden.

They hum, and if you can
find a place to sit beneath them,
they will tell you secrets. 
In the Desert, each tree is
an Eden of its own; pulsing

with the Magick of resilience,
and a Well-placed seed.
12/26/20 Transit: 
North Node in GEMINI quincunx 
     the native Pluto in SCORPIO


when people tell me to,
“be careful,” like a parting Death
wish.  What the fuck do you
people think I’m doing out Here?
Whether you want me to be scared of Other
people, or of COVID, or the Creatures,
or of running out of 'enoughness,' everyone 
somehow thinks they are being wise,

and original. Always the same; eyebrows
raised, or that ominous lilt of the voice,
“Be careful.” I am sleeping in the Desert,
for weeks at a time, not leaving,
hardly speaking to, or seeing, anyone,
besides over zoom. It is likely I am
less exposed than you, to danger and disease,
as you frolic amongst yourSelves.
It is not a blessing. Your fear
is a black cloud you try to shelter
me under, with a leaky umbrella.  No,
thank you.  I am all set 

on your projections, and your slapstick,
passing opinions, on what it means 
to be me, as you take a snapshot
of my life, and create freeze

frames of your own nightmare
for me. This is not my first time
living on the road. This is a rodeo
I know. I am wiser than you think

I seem, but I can’t help but smile at
you, as you speak. It makes you see
the Child in me, but I do not welcome
your worry. Would it be OK, if you just 

let me be healing?
12/29/20 Transit: 
Full Moon in CANCER conjunct
       the native South Node


It’s just me and the Moon, and the
cacti, out here in the Ironwood 
National Forest, no human else. 
Road Rage and I pulled in as the Sun
set behind us, and the Moon rose in front.
The cacti, worshipping the whole show 

like a Sea of divine middle fingers.
I knew I was close to my Moon line, 
when I got the inkling that this was

where I needed to be, but looking it up
now, I see I’m exactly on it.  I giggle,
but I am no longer surprised by my own 

lunacy.  How very Cancerian indeed,
to be sucked into the center stream
of where the Moon rules me. The Land does

not exactly feel “good” here. It is
a little shadowed, and creepy, as past 
life echoes can be. I came here to merge

with the part of me I gave him; the teen,
so long split from me I wasn’t sure I was 
a woman, anymore.  She is no longer the only 

gender living in me, but I can feel her
returning lately.  The scales, tipping 
my fluidity. She runs, literally, 

arms open wide, through sandy 
corridors; a dusty phantom, kicking up
sparkles.  I have never liked running before, 

but these past two days, my legs take off 
with me, but not by my command. “Come 
back,” she speaks, “come back to me.” 
It makes me cry with relief, to feel her,
in me. This past year, I was not 
sure that she and I would ever again

be. “Come back,” she laughs,
“wrap our bones
around me.”

Green looks up,



“Who’s Road Rage?”

Lilith smiles wide,
“My truck.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: