(no subject)
serenly,
she opens my palms
and fingers my life line
she moves to the west
and pronounces
i will have one and a half
kids
she nods fiercely
to some invisible entity
that understands
what it means to
have these knotches
etched into a hand
she examines my fingernails
shining in their glory
after an hour of buffering
and years of boycotting
finger nail polish-
she declares
i have a wonderful sense
of aesthetics
i smile at her
in a secret language
i'm beginning to understand
"a map is drawn
onto our palms
the same way
the sky is a guide
to our path
in the universe"
she says.
"our hands tell stories
of our ancestors or
the karmic ties
which bind us,
the immediate purpose
of our soul- our greatest needs"
she thinks i have a fleshy
forefinger
and asks if i'm ruled by the moon
after examination of
the lines nearing my wrists
she says honey
you've gotta be a cancer
i say yes
if you wanna get technical...
cause i wax and wane like the moon
sometimes hiding
sometimes shining
illuminating the mysteries
we take for granted
and while we're at
i think i should clear up
that there is no man on the moon
no it's definently a woman
and it's not made of cheese
it's more like velvet
enveloping our evenings
in a beautiful blanket of
enchanting light
she told me she understood
cause she's a moon child too
she swears she's most beautiful
at night
i say i love when the moon is a just a sliver
and all of my lovers quiver
when only catching a glance of me
while i make them shiver in delight
serenly,
she closes my palms,
meets my eyes
she reminds me
there is always a guide
in front of me
and should i ever falter
just watch the moon
and the rest should just fall
into place
she opens my palms
and fingers my life line
she moves to the west
and pronounces
i will have one and a half
kids
she nods fiercely
to some invisible entity
that understands
what it means to
have these knotches
etched into a hand
she examines my fingernails
shining in their glory
after an hour of buffering
and years of boycotting
finger nail polish-
she declares
i have a wonderful sense
of aesthetics
i smile at her
in a secret language
i'm beginning to understand
"a map is drawn
onto our palms
the same way
the sky is a guide
to our path
in the universe"
she says.
"our hands tell stories
of our ancestors or
the karmic ties
which bind us,
the immediate purpose
of our soul- our greatest needs"
she thinks i have a fleshy
forefinger
and asks if i'm ruled by the moon
after examination of
the lines nearing my wrists
she says honey
you've gotta be a cancer
i say yes
if you wanna get technical...
cause i wax and wane like the moon
sometimes hiding
sometimes shining
illuminating the mysteries
we take for granted
and while we're at
i think i should clear up
that there is no man on the moon
no it's definently a woman
and it's not made of cheese
it's more like velvet
enveloping our evenings
in a beautiful blanket of
enchanting light
she told me she understood
cause she's a moon child too
she swears she's most beautiful
at night
i say i love when the moon is a just a sliver
and all of my lovers quiver
when only catching a glance of me
while i make them shiver in delight
serenly,
she closes my palms,
meets my eyes
she reminds me
there is always a guide
in front of me
and should i ever falter
just watch the moon
and the rest should just fall
into place