Sun, Saturn, Mercury, Moon,
line up in Scorpio like little soldiers,
pointing their rifles at me
in my death and rebirth.
It feels too much like swimming,
where I thought death would be a fall,
And the water of Scorpio suddenly makes sense.
It pulls you in like a flood,
kills you like drowning,
and rebirths you like a womb.
Death means everything
as the universe sparks anew.
Jupiter squares Saturn,
expanding through Leo,
and it makes it that much harder to die.
But the waters swell and smother;
the womb of the earth surrounds me
before she dilates,
and it’s always something better on the other side.