She’s about to awake. But first..
I am the eyes opening for the first time. First laid on a lover. I am the cry of the infant and the warrior on their shared battlefield. I am the first breath. I am the first breeze stirred by the rising sun. I am the morning rays. I am the soft perfume of the first crocus pushing through the last frost, picked for a village to smell. I am the rhyme in heart’s reason. I am the heart that beats without reason. I am the song without lyrics, playing beneath the cacophony. I’ve been here before. I’ve lived a whole life before, but I don’t remember. These hands do. These feet do. So I dance. I shake, shimmy and glide upon the crescendo of my mother’s voice. I beat my drum around the fire. The fire that burns of a soul, hot and heavy. Smoke lifting up to the ether and the spirits, acrid soot landing on their tongues and tickling their bellies.
Pulsing through the vascular entrails of their systems, pungent and sweet, I am.
Babe with a golden fleece, what a woman. So daring. So bright and so beautiful. How did last night go so wrong for her? Wiggling bony protrusions and tongue, hashing out today’s dose of gobbledygook for some paper exchange; that wasn’t her destiny, how awful! She was supposed to have her own Wikipedia page. She’ll be the last to admit she’s over it, the first to clock out of the allegorical cage only to jump into her own; built of desires and painted with doubts. She swallowed the key and it’s getting carted on a rainbow of wrath straight to hell. It’s not her fault she’s from the paleolithic era. How’d the future get so complicated?
She domineers, exerts, bursts, recoils and has a date at 9.
She’s waiting on a few phone calls. One from her girlfriend back east, one from an ex, and one from a cosmic radio talk show host telling her she solved the puzzle, she figured out the joke! Here’s a few mil and a one way ticket to a world with answers. Let’s hit the road, jack, and never come back. On a run, thinking back to a day filled with...
Dusty schoolyards and buttercups.Peanut butter and jelly.Country time lemonade.The chains that pinch her fingers awarding blood blisters for all the air she caught on the swings.
The caterpillar with whom she had a moment. And the caterpillar she stomped on because all the kids were holding it captive. Paying attention to it instead of her. Everybody remembers that.
Bloodthirsty little monster.
Will one of the boys ask her to join foursquare? It's taking too long! No-one will ever ask. Leaving the playground for the centaur and his fairies. To her surprise: “Wanna play with us?” Back to reality? Last to join and first out. Was too busy daydreaming to pay attention. She just gets bored. She’s Hercules and these games are beneath her. Can’t wait to grow up.
What happened to the childhood bliss?
She finished her run, went to work, conducted a monodrama in the living room and did the dishes, where’s her trophy? Frank’s "My Way" playing in the background. Gazing at the mirror, lacquered lips, cheeks like daggers, eyes on fire. Chasing white lace. Living a lie.
It’s quarter of eight and she's rushing to the car; don’t want to keep the caterpillar waiting.
This month's Aries New Moon Story created by:
Words: Thomas Fabrizio, @tfab93
Model: Emily Rosen, @emilydowntown
MUA/ Stylist: Derya Derman, @derya_was_here
Astrological consultant: Gillian Masland, @jung_americans
Photographer & producer: Suzy Mae, @suzy_mae
Please credit @neonaltar & above if reposting 🙏🏻