Interplanetary: Venus {3/9}

You were captivated by my Botticelli curls and my sweetheart lips. My oceanic eyes. I was all curves to you — lines that you explored as if they were roads to travel, and you liked the view from your seat behind the wheel.

You were taken with the pieces of me that trailed from the folds of the gown I wear like a second skin: affection, harmony, refinement, care, pleasure.

And you were drawn to way I carried it in my arms, all the facets of my mind that glitter like beach glass amongst the stones, with rare elegance.

But if you thought a figure who anchored an ancient city and roused fiery passions amongst gods would be a still life without a fervent spirit of her own, you overlooked what was at my core.

There is no room for apathy when there is a fierce mind, a capable body, and an expansive soul illuminating the sky.

And if you think for one moment that I am anything like the others, that there is another like me hurtling through space, you will know your mistake. You will know exactly how hot a surface temperature of 500 degrees burns.

So do not take me for granted. Do not fail to see that I spin in a direction exactly opposite the rest of the field. Do not fail to grasp how substantial the heavens are that surround me. Do not fail to understand the composition of my marrow.

Do not deny that I am all of it: goddess, rebel, and the brightest object you will ever encounter outside your own realm of being.

Look up. That’s me you see — a white crystalline spark skirting your horizon, dancing with your moon, and throwing light for you to catch and weave between your fingers and lace amongst your atoms.

They’ll dance in that light, those filaments inside you. Because we are made from the same kind of magic, you and I.

Do not doubt it.

Soundtrack: Tori Amos, “Cornflake Girl”