Virgo
On the twenty-first of September, 2025,
I, Helios, god of the Sun,
entered the Sixth House
and found Virgo waiting—
the Virgin, radiant,
her light softer than dawn.
Her beauty was not flesh alone,
but the balm of the wounded soul,
a healer of what is broken.
I said, “Let us celebrate,
for the eclipse belongs to us.”
Virgo smiled, yet whispered,
“What if Luna, your wife, finds us?”
And I replied, “Fear not—
she will only pass by in silence.
For tonight, I dwell in your house.”
I gazed into her eyes
and kissed her with the fire of the Sun.
Yet as my flame longed to consume her,
she wept and said,
“I am a Virgin—
I can only unite in the intercourse of souls.”
And so it was:
in that sacred eclipse,
I entered not her body but her spirit,
and I was made whole for the first time.
Refinement, purity, and sorrow
were written upon my light.
But the shadow moved,
Luna returned to her throne,
and Virgo faded back into silence.
Since then I burn in the sky,
forever longing for the Virgin
who healed me once,
yet can never be mine.
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