aries: she is the very onset of spring in a burst of flower petals and raindrops. bright green leaves timidly peel away from grey-brown branches, a sparrow’s bright spiel cuts through the air. the sky breaks into a swirl of pink and purple and you feel a sudden surge of mad happiness.
taurus: plush, damp grass beneath bare feet. brave dandelions poking out of the mud. the air is still chilly, but taurus is a beam of sunshine breaking through the clouds to warm your skin. cherry trees shower you in petals the color of her cheeks.
gemini: fairies dance wildly in a clearing to music only they can hear. the night sky explodes with sound, singing cicadas and fiddling crickets and the laughter of the stars, folding together in a gentle hurricane of sound that makes your head spin and your belly tremble. you laugh deep and genuine as you spin around in circles under the moon.
cancer: summer eases in warm and buttery, like your mother’s chocolate chip cookies. the sky bears down in a cloudless, ceramic blue that feels close and far away at once. you meet her at sunset, to sit by the glassy lake in the woods and watch the gentle moon-man and his winking, twinkling companions.
leo: you push through the hottest days of summer by building a bonfire as tall as the sky itself, the flames licking the stars and baking your face as you add more wood to the fire. her face looks so beautiful in the firelight. she tells a joke and you all laugh long and loud, not caring who hears.
virgo: the end of summer is a schmooze on the patio with your best friend, drinking pink lemonade in the sleepy summer heat. the world is no longer celebrating with mindless joy and abandon, but with cerebral rejoices and preparation for the upcoming winter months.
libra: you spy the first ruby-colored leaf floating to the ground, and before you know it, you’re knee deep in the jewel toned leaves. the gentle wind carries just a whisper, a hint of winter chill, but the sun continues her dance, filtering through the red-and-gold leaves to play a penultimate number on your cheek.
scorpio: the last leaf falls as a single warning shot. the chilly air caresses your cheek and coolly kisses your forehead, raising the fine hairs on the back of your neck. children masquerade as wailing ghosts under flowered sheets as jack o’lanterns grin madly from dark porches. the taste of caramel melts sugar-spicy on your tongue, and you cannot find her.
sagittarius: strands of multicolored fairy-lights grace the craggy branches of bare trees. the smell of spice-cake and pumpkin pie and sugar cookies perfume the air, clogging your ears and clouding your mind. you laugh and joke without reason, and dance on the frosty morning ground with numb toes and cherry-red lips.
capricorn: the ugly branches like deadly medieval spikes fade out from your line of sight until all you can see is the endless expanse of grey sky, reaching out and swallowing you up until you’re cold and gasping. snowflakes cover your face with tiny, biting kisses until you cannot breathe.
aquarius: a curious waltz plays from the static-filled radio of an old car. she is with you, warming your cold hand with her cold hand and watching your breath come in tiny white puffs that spiral through the air like cigarette smoke. the windows are foggy, but you can still see the watery glow of the moon.
pisces: the first courageous flowers spike from the grey ground, only to be crushed by the snowstorm next day… why do they rise too early only to die too soon, you wonder? because they are flowers, pale and hopeful and brainless, sacrificing their lives for a short day of beauty. you are not a flower. you roll over and lapse back into dreamland, but your time will come to wake.