dappermouth:

Aries: Beauty
awaits you where others will not see it. It gleams on the surface of a stagnant
canal; you will feel it in the coolness of loamy soil and the scratching,
toiling insects. It calls you into the rustling green, and begs you to sink
forever in the reeds.

Taurus: On
ink-black nights, your spirit slips through your bones and walks free. It
wanders in its thousand silent forms, passes ghostly below cedar trees and wide rolling plains. It
returns to fill your head with animal memories, raw and alive with
longing.

Gemini: Something
has followed you, one part gnawing and another sighing, full of mournful sound
that makes the hair on your nape prickle like a cornered dog’s. To its eyes you
are a hazy ghost of familiar scent and color—it is afraid, too, and alone, and
only seeks comfort from you.

Cancer: A roaring
black horizon stretches along your tender spine, just below the skin. It
distorts sound and memory, turns bird song into ancient tongues, and from the
other side you can feel something searching, pressing, seeking a way through.

Leo: When the
call comes, it will ring out from nowhere—a low cry buzzing through the air
after dark. Your blood and bones will remember what it means even if you do
not; follow their lead as they pull toward the door and the yawning night
beyond.

Virgo: Black fur
will begin appearing, tangled in trees and brush, meant for your eyes only.
Collect it where you find it, hide the lush dark tufts in a secret pouch and
keep it close at hand. It will protect you when its owner arrives in the shape of a beast, beautiful but wrong, like a limb twisted out of place.

Libra: As you
sleep, a lean dark figure approaches, tall and stooped at your bedside. Its
hands are cold and damp, dappled with sap, grass sprouts breaking through skin.
It leaves a familiar branch by your side before departing. Perhaps now you can
remember the way back.

Scorpio: Clear
days blur the boundary between your skin and the brisk air. High in a pine, a
hawk tucks strands of your hair into the lining of its nest, and its chicks
dream of you, of your voice and hands, unknowing, forgotten on waking.

Sagittarius: A
narrow farm shed sits abandoned in an open field; it’s been many years but the
gift that was left for you still rests inside. Pull down the damp-rotten door
and find it in a tangle of oak branches on the concrete floor, dried leaves
humming over the flesh of your second body.

Capricorn: Look
up when flocks of birds are in the sky—they have been sent to tell you
something. In the shifting sea of starlings you will see the beauty and terror
to come, and crows stand by to warn you when the danger draws close. Keep seeds
in your pocket; your allies are always near at your side.

Aquarius: A
juniper will grow beneath your bed, its thin scrub branches spilling out onto
the floor, dotted with clusters of berries whose dusty blue surface conceals
something, like a figure shifting behind frosted glass. Tend to it carefully,
and you will see clearly what lies beyond their muted veil.

Pisces: A
wilderness begins in your chest, slowly at first and then growing vast, your
heart swallowed in the trees. You must walk there to learn, to make sense of
the strange beasts who flicker between the trees, to uncover the weeping
leviathan deep in its glacial lakes.