Venus loves to hear the song of her beauty, echoing her orbits, shining back to her in reflection…she is vain and proud, and must be lived, loudly, boldly. Gold is not mute. Gold shines. Gold reflects. Gold has structure and melts with the right temperature.

Maybe you triggered the right heat within me, and I lost my form, melting allover your hands, melting into my old foundations, and revisiting anachronistic images of my heart from the forgotten past.

Venus retrograde has become a renegade of tragedy. Just kidding, I know this war very well, and am an expert general, on the front lines.

Don’t worry, shoot me with your hardest, I can do wonders with the right ammo. I can aim perfectly with the right insight. I surrender at the right moments. Capture this flag, I’ve a pot of gold, waiting to be melted and stirred by your hands.

Churn my heart like butter on farmhouse mornings, i’ll gather crops like clockwork, and find you pumping the chores like the preliminaries to win my eye. When you’re ready to throw some grit into this, I’ll have flowers and fruit, planted from long ago, to adorn a feast, only for us.

I can be a sweet talker, and an arrogant walker with a stiff neck. But I prove my words with integrity, because I throw myself into the fire after I write it. I burn myself like a phoenix, a falcon’s eye, a raven’s claw… my skin wants your aggression. I am burning and dripping gold everywhere.

So she told me, Venus, she told me imploding is not the way, ever again.

I speak her words. I do her duties. and she grants me blessings, rewards.

I have no fear. Heart is on sleeve. Lips drip truth. Touch tells all. Eyes speak volumes.

Do you hear me?

I’ve been rewarded with melted gold to reform. This love has heated my structures.

Watch me transform.



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