Because I am a Libra moon, mundanity is to me today
what a hickory is to a flying squirrel, which is to say
I am all flailing limbs & no-brake tails & I could dive headfirst
into anything that ever scared me. If this Wednesday were a cereal
it’d be Lucky Charms. Every hour ticking by right now is an
opportunity wasted not to dance to 80’s albums or run through
drugstores laughing at the packaging on feminine products,
plus as Spongebob would say you don’t need a license to drive a
sandwich or in this case your sister’s electric-blue Bentley.
I tell myself nature was so clever to create oxytocin,
that I’ve a truant heart & I want nothing more than to make
right turns forty miles over the speed limit & feel my body slam
into yours like Newton’s first apple to the ground,
both our cheeks red & bright like it too. You
are a Cancer rising, which means routine to you is as stupid as
acting like explosive diarrhea is something completely acceptable
& a-okay just because it’s scheduled to every other Tuesday
& Thursday. In other words, you
want to try something new. We are compatible the way
defibrillation shocks & Lazarus hearts are: not perfect, but
we still make sense together. You want me to be the football captain
to your cheerleader but I’d rather be the cheerleader to your
cheerleader, or better yet the mousy-haired yearbook club-dropout
to your cheerleader. Today because I am a Libra moon
I’ll finally drive into what I’ve always wanted to do
with you. Today because you are a Cancer rising I want you
to try keeping my name in your mouth like a freeway-Slurpee
kiss, to feel my name burst against your body like
the airbag’s inflated plastic cushion while the car careens in
figure-8’s, us crashing into each other’s bodies, laughing.