The incessant chatter of Cancer drifted into the back of her mind, turning into long conversations on the beach, the tide washing words with memories.
In cancer time, every minute could be a moment, there is the possibility for growth, enlightenment, and meaning in every experience, the pinnacle events of life felt with a reverent glory, to marry, to love, to held, to be held, to be welcomed home, and be kissed as she leaves for the world.
She is not bound indoors, but rather makes a presence and a home out of everything, constructing hideaways in secret fantasies and re illustrated memory. Before it was all about learning and squeezing facts out of life, now it is about withholding life, or giving birth to beautiful life, whether it be her own, a child, or something or someone she cherishes. People are stain glass windows to her lunar sculpted eyes, their feelings moving like colours, their psychic activity enveloping her like a heatwave
And you wonder why she can’t sleep, when its something her spirit so desperately needs. But your worry is her worry, and you give it to her while you fall asleep