She was masculine, diurnal, occidental, of the winter, and changeable.
Vapour rises from the warm and moist, but it is not a good mixture,
It destroys life,
Often her own.
On the whole, her nature was changeable, but unchanged, as all women are.
Youthful and new, she bites her lip, better at the end.
She is in my blood already somehow, her flavours are sweet,
The blood is red hot, from the heart.
She is of human form, and perfect form, shapely and young.
Her speech, pleasant, good hearted, and generous.
She is a woman of intelligence and morality. Dignity in face.
Her hands are skilled in all arts. Her share is the area below the belly, near the groin.
The third face will be androgynous, sayeth the Astrologer.¹
Venus, exalted in Saturn, fall of the Sun at nineteen degrees. Venus is in the hips, moon in the chest.
The moon is in Taurus, as mine.
The rising in the sun.
She was masculine, diurnal,
But up most nights, and agreeableness high, neuroticism higher.
And she is fifty percent sugar, sometimes.
¹R. Ibn Ezra, from The Beginning of Wisdom. Most of this peom directly references the Libra entry.