Dear Virgo,

Fight or flight, the therapist intones.

Root impulse. Cellular tug. But now, she asks,

how often are you really in danger? Admit it,

hardly ever. You’d kill to wrap your hands

around that jerk’s neck who cut you off.

But, of course, he’s not your enemy, only

a stalking horse for something closer.

Where are you in your body? Can you feel your feet?