My sister, my witch.
Scorpio (Oct 23-Nov 21): Anne Sexton was a Scorpio. Here is the beginning of her poem “Black Art”:
A woman who writes feels too much,
those trances and portents!
As if cycles and children and islands
weren't enough; as if mourners and gossips
and vegetables were never enough.
She thinks she can warn the stars.
A writer is essentially a spy.
Dear love, I am that girl.
Scorpio, Saturn sits heavy in your stomach, a cake baked with the milk of melancholy. My sister, my witch, I forgive you for everything. Get up. This month, strip your inertia off like a ripped stocking. It isn’t protecting you from the cold and it sure doesn’t look good. Isn’t there a woman you forgot to be? Isn’t there an animal in you purring?
So what? I'm a scorpio, horoscopes were practically created for me.