O Lion-heart, this September I am thinking about what it must feel like to be the Sun. Each month a different house; each planet aching toward you. If I could sit with you on a green patch of grass or a wood bench warm from the day’s heat. If we were two planets sustaining each other’s survival with a shared meal, with laughter, a song we love. If I could then I would. Often, we find the ones we love are furthest from us. And when I say far, I do not mean the body, although the body leaves in its own way. I mean your solitary path, your refusal to retreat in the face of shadow or the unknown. Your love of the unknown, which brings out the brave in you and the callous, the lover who refuses the ordinary no matter how good the ordinary has been to you. I was a dagger/ but in whose heart?Those are some lyrics from a song by Lovers. Sometimes, in order to honor the wild heart in you, you must be both the lover and the knife. Leo, you were born to hunt, I know. You never asked to be the Sun.