Dark Moon Tales from Aquaria

Art by Leonora Carrington

Not all moons are created equal. The journey through the deep treacle of the Aquarian balsam is no ordinary dark mooning. Descending like an otherworldly cloak as beneath its soft sparking folds you are transported, this caravan of selves.

At the threshold you see palest moonlight rake its silver fingers down the trunk of the tallest white gum.
The matrix glitches,
your head tilts,
your heart stands on its head on horseback.

Making your way languidly into the water bearer's dark reaches, drawers open and close within you repeatedly. The wood creaks and groans in steady rhythm. The matrix glitches, strains of a song you knew once by heart haunt your pale rider and make your blood rush. Desire snorts and stomps impatient hooves. Hunger rakes at your entrails.

On your way to redemption and reinvention, the earth ripples like a shaken rug. The hills stare back into you. The moon hides her face in solemn contemplation, tracks your passage overhead like a mother.
The matrix glitches,
the mirror cratered,
muted and constellated,
your eyes turn inside out.

The air is heavy like a breath. Light swims through it forming scales on your skin, pearl petals weaving themselves into a language that embraces you like water. Scrawls runes on your cells and wraps your bones in ferns. All you see inside are stars. Dark matter conjures from deep within your wellspring.
The matrix glitches,
a universe swells within,
weeps in wonder,
your soul gently places its hand on the small of your back.

Aquaria sighs her sweet perfume. An amethyst sky pours you a drink. Your surrender is grace in slow motion.
The matrix glitches,
the dark moon wends,
wraps the water bearer's owl feather cape
all the way around you twice,
deftly changing your shape.


Words c. Kerrie Basha 2021