Cancer (June 21-July 22)
Sexually, you consider yourself pretty adventurous, open-minded, and versatile. But the hermaphroditic sea hare has you beat. Since individuals possess both male and female genitalia, they can screw in long daisy chains, with each sea hare playing both roles. You’re simply not physically equipped to duplicate their acrobatic underwater orgies, but it may be within your emotional range. Since this week’s challenges require you to be simultaneously receptive and aggressive, hunter and hard-to-get, stretch your range. The more psychologically limber you are, the more likely you’ll be able to deliver—and receive—the goods.
Leo (July 23-Aug. 22)
Just when you thought they’d never change, the tectonics of your heart shift. Canyons form and Himalayan barriers rise. Count your blessings, you lucky godling, instead of focusing on the new mountains and chasms blocking your way to the things and people you’ve become overly accustomed to (and dependent on). These continental movements of your inner world are just what you need. Bear fortunate witness to the miraculous changes that could result: new, fertile river valleys; massive subtropical rainforests, and such opportune shifts in your spiritual climate that you might as well forget about regular old rain—for the time being, it’s nothing but manna from heaven for you.
Virgo (Aug. 23-Sept. 22)
Like other octopi, the mimic octopus can use shifting skin colors as camouflage. However, this master impressionist has learned another trick; physically imitating its predators, including lionfish, sea snakes, and sole fish. This is a trick you’d do well to learn, especially this week, when more than one of your persistent foes is on the prowl. Your old hiding places have been found out, and your usually effective diversionary tactics caught on to. The coolest part of convincing your antagonists that you’re one of them: they’ll let you in on all their best plans to nab their prey, thereby enabling you to nimbly evade them for months to come.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)
Occasionally scrutinizing your actions and their consequences under a magnifying glass is good; making a habit of it, however, sucks, because your occasional slumps seem to warrant outright condemnation, and your pinnacles of excellence can prompt flurries of overdone self-congratulation. Don’t blow things out of proportion. This week, remove the monocle of personal examination and step back to view the big picture. Don’t sweat the record highs and lows. Allow yourself to experience the troughs and peaks without obsessing over them, and trust that your overall best is more than good enough.
Scorpio (Oct. 23-Nov. 21)
When scorpions mate, they dance. Claws locked in hers, the male has to keep the much larger female at bay (otherwise she’d probably eat him) until he’s had a chance to deposit some sperm on a flat rock and maneuver her over it so it gets sucked up into her genital orifice; then he attempts (often unsuccessfully) to flee. Despite the frequently lethal difficulty of this process, the species has persisted for a very long time. Since getting what you want this week requires facing down someone who is—let’s face it—simply more powerful than you are (at least in this arena) you will have to take your cue from your namesake. Dance the dance, be on your guard, and when you’ve gotten what you want, run like hell.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22-Dec. 21)
You come up with some of your best ideas while jogging, pooping, showering, or having sex; in other words, when you’re engaged by being in your body. It’s about time you learned (or remembered) that your most profound and meaningful inspiration occurs when a synergetic partnership forms between head and gut. Being ill can make you want to escape your body, but don’t let your recent less-than-pleasant experiences inside your own skin put you off from being there. Instead, unlearn the body memories recent infirmities may have taught you by occupying your flesh in ways you enjoy, and giving your brain (now unfettered by sick-and-tiredness) a chance to come up with the brilliant ideas you’ll need to play catch-up from all your recent downtime.
Capricorn (Dec. 22-Jan. 19)
Whoa, horsey. Someone thinks he’s got you completely domesticated. Since you might as well be saddled, wearing blinders, and hitched to a wagon you never intended to pull, you can see where he got that idea. This is a good week, however, to show everyone that you’re not quite as tame as previously believed. Get your face out of the feedbag, seize the bit in your teeth, and run wild. Although you may not want to shirk your chosen bonds completely, to be at your best you require more freedom than you’ve had recently. Believe it or not, screwing the stable boy or burning down the barn could buy you exactly the breathing room you need.
Aquarius (Jan. 20-Feb. 18)
You pride yourself on not being easily swayed by a pretty face—at least, not unless it’s connected to a fascinating mind or otherwise compelling talent. However, even you lofty Aquarians ought to experiment with superficiality occasionally. You might be surprised by what you learn. This week, without violating any of your essential principles, allow yourself to explore attractions (sexual and otherwise) that would usually seem shallow. Chances are that even though you can often judge a book by its cover, the exceptions you discover by flouting that rule of thumb more than compensate for the many predictable disappointments you’ll encounter along the way.
Pisces (Feb. 19-March 20)
My high school chemistry teacher was fond of telling us, “There’s no such thing as a free lunch.” He was referring to the basic concept that matter and energy can’t be created or destroyed, but in your case, it has practical relevance. This week’s lesson: everything has a price. Luckily, your ability to detect unseen strings and deduce hidden agendas will vastly increase this week. The gifts you’re receiving may well be worth what they cost you, but it’s best if you know ahead of time exactly what that is. Therefore hold off on accepting presents or favors until you find out exactly what their cryptic price tags require of you.
Aries (March 21-April 19)
Although you often wish you could scorch the pavement with your loud, black, beast of a motorcycle, skidding to a stop in your badass leather and a cool so cold it chaps lips, you can only occasionally be that amazing. Most of the time, you’re too real and human for that—your dorkiness, foolhardiness, or vulnerability show through. That’s not a bad thing, though. If you were icily hip at all times, you’d be a lonely person. For now, revel in being human, and save extraordinary tasks for next week, when you’ll be able to handle them with ease.
Taurus (April 20-May 20)
Like it or not, you’re our new Delphian oracle. Under the potent, exotic influence of something you’re not used to, be it subterranean gases, absinthe, hours of reality TV, or the tender influence of romantic and horny love, you’ll be spouting prophetic wisdom totally unlike your usual pithy, practical advice. Be careful which of your cunning insights you disclose, however. Being right about some things can be worse than being wrong; accurately predicting your best friend’s break-up won’t win you any points. Besides, having a reputation for soothsaying may simply be a burden you don’t want to bear. In other words, if your vision yields lottery numbers, play them, but if you see the unpreventable demise of a buddy’s most ludicrous dreams, keep your mouth shut, throw up your hands, and act surprised.
Gemini (May 21-June 20)
Maintenance is what it’s all about this week; the regular business of brushing your teeth, changing the oil in your car, dosing your pool with chlorine—so you don’t end up toothless before your dotage, stranded on the side of the highway with a smoking engine, or swimming in greenish muck with frogs and water moccasins. Even conscientious people like you slip once in a while, but since this week’s mishaps are likely to slither in through the chinks of your prophylactic armor, please make sure those are few and far between.
Email Caeriel at firstname.lastname@example.org.