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star chart by Rebecca Gault

do born-again christians pick a new birthday? 

do they look at the calendar on the day they find their faith and think 

-- ah yes, i always knew i should have

been a leo, the righteous lion. 

how odd it must be. to master your birth in such a way. perhaps i will choose a new sign. 


roll up, roll up

here are my new horoscopes -- 

{ aries } 

there are a hundred different eyes beneath your rippling skin, always looking and searching.

they stare backwards but never think to look ahead. there is a fearful devotion to your

knowledge. be unafraid. get something new at the bar this weekend. 

{ taurus } 

your unbecoming body cannot hold you hostage forever. the footprints in profane forest

floors lead you home. home is the graveyard amongst the trees, the one with every past

version of you, choked and buried by your own hand. accept your new self.

{ gemini }

something has followed you. there are ghosts in your lungs - do you feel them becoming

restless and crying out for attention in your own voice? they are mournful things and they

only seek a friend to take them by the hand. do not let them rule your body. 

{ cancer } 

do you feel the bleat of the doe crawl up your bruise-tender spine? it has your delicate

breath and bone and blood, can’t you hear it call you home? it twists memory, turns cawing

crows into wicked tongues, something ancient and powerful. let it carry you home. 

{ leo }

oh child, they know what it is to have growing pains. wrap yourself in the lack of light, a

blanket of dark. drink the soup they put down - it is warm and homely, just pick out the teeth

you find there. check they weren’t yours later. look at your animal-wild reflection. 

{ virgo } 

there has been black fur following you, hasn’t there? do not be alarmed. simply pick it up and place it in your shroud-black pouch, let it fester there until the time is right. the beast will rise from your pocket to protect you. do not look as it bites down on flesh. 

{ libra }

when the clock strikes the witching hour, you will sense someone by your bed. pull them in

close and bury your face in their bloody chest, ignore the fact that there are too many fingers

in your hair. reach out your shadow limbs, my friend. let them retreat when something takes

hold.  


{ scorpio } 

far away, in that place you visited as a child, innocent and indelible, there is a hawk. she

weaves a nest from strands of your hair and sings to her children of your gentle hands. when

they visit, let them in. speak to them in their tongues. they will take your marrow-deep fear

home. 

{ sagittarius } 

if you run with the litter then the mother will chase at your heels, ancient and hungry. can you

hear her pounding paws? there is a scream and you raise a rock to end the litter’s pain.

when you bring it down, it is upon your own skull. your hair smelt of smoke and freedom. 

{ capricorn }

in your dreams, you hear a familiar-not-familiar voice and know that there is something new

growing within you. let it grow. keep seeds in your pocket to nourish it, breathe in cloudy,

misty air and let it sear your lungs. the new thoughts sprout, a hideous vine from your

cranium. 

{ aquarius }

oh challenger deep, your eyes are blinding and entrancing, be careful where you turn them.

count the impossible pillars of smoke in the sweetened sea - it is a message for you. count

the days, make the numbers match. they will come to save your burning, aching soul. 

{ pisces } 

do not worry about the leviathan deep in the water, little one. the glaciers remember and it is

not your fault you can hear them sing. it is unholy, i know, i know. these ancient griefs were

not meant to speak, especially not to you, do not listen. be careful when you bathe. 

i would like to pick my new sign every morning 

-- based on the way the world holds them that day 

-- must i always die to be reborn? 


oh mama, do not fuss 

-- i rise anew with every dawn

-- i cannot always be your little girl


Rebecca Gault is a queer poet from Glasgow, Scotland. Interested in the gothic and the macabre, they work with a range of mediums to showcase the beauty in the darker sides of life. Her work can be found at apocalypsemaiden.wordpress.com and she can be contacted at @RebeccaGault7 on Twitter.

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