The bright twinkling stars of the summer triangle comfort me in the darkness. It’s three points stretching forth brightly behind the crescent August moon. Soon the summer triangle will make room, and finally be replaced by the winter stars of Leo, and Sirius, better known as the Dog Star. Other relatives from this family of mythic constellations will also take their positions high in the night sky. These fiery spheres will rise upward from the celestial horizon and present a sparkling view of the heavens, while presenting the astrological future to those that read the sun, stars, and the moon. Some stars may well be on their way towards becoming Hugh red giants. The next form they must take in their long journey through adult stellar stardom. But now my attention is being drawn away. Drawn away by beauty, form and brilliance that out shines all that can be seen. Yes, the planet Venus, beautiful little Venus. She hangs low on a string in the sky like a child’s smile in the night. But strange is she. Possessing a beautiful magical power in her every glance, and move that mystifies and captivates normal mortal men. A planet that presents no logical references, as does her brother Mars when viewing his polar ice caps. Venus is god’s heavenly answer to love and beauty. A sphere that brings forth all that femininity has to offer. Rotating in retrograde this she-planet spins clockwise backward on her tilted axis. A tilt, one hundred and seventy nine degrees the opposite of what is known to us, as up. Her ways and total pattern of thought is only one degree off from facing perfectly downward or at least in the opposing direction. The planets two mountain ranges could never be slighted or overlooked. They conjure visions of a woman’s breasts whose majestic twin peaks with their hue of nutty brown, pink, and buff suffused nipples, are so often referred to as soft precious mountains… themselves. Its magnetic field has not yet been detected. And therefore it is thought to be non-existent, along with the very placement of her misunderstood logic. Also a thick ammonium gas lies in a heavy fog. Like a perfume, it lingers and mists her empty gray lands with its yellow color. Empty from its Un-breathable stench, it kills and wards off all that breath, too close for her, own comfort. But it also produces the hotness of a woman’s love, held and protected. A heated love, that propels her to a stature of being the hottest planet to revolve around our sun. But yes, she does revolve. And just as we do, Venus shares this common celestial voyage of heliocentric revolution. She has changed her mind. No more does she revolve around the Earth of old. Her change in coarse discovered by Copernicus was put forth to the world, replacing geocentricism and all of its high fashioned earth centered view. And yes, it is within the power of a conquering Venus that I too have become victim. Fallen by her piercing arrow shot straight through my heart. An arrow that, like her runaway green housing atmosphere, allows for no sunbeams heat to ever escape. My love is her captive. And in this captivity of heated love, I become strong with useful purpose, and squirm in hellish pleasures and delight. Too look upon her, within me she produces a feeling of pure love and adulterated passion that has remained unmatched in this current world. And it is deep between my wanton thighs that I often yearn for this love. It is within me, my blood she cast into heated motion. Causing a blood race, heading toward but one goal. …Reproduction. A blood race that heats feverishly towards boiling point, stiffening its vessel of flesh into case hardened steel. Then violently it abruptly convulses and blows forth its vested fill skyward. A steaming white stream of hot volcanic, life giving spews. Spew shot hard and deep, whenever and wherever she allows me to touch the contours of her outer form. Or lets me peer into her negative space, with my naked eyes.