solid mercury is malleable. At a cinnabar beach you can warm the palm sized rocks in your hands and feel it liquify. Your brown skin and the vermillion radiating at a smooth -38 degrees.
“Benefits of Le Sony’r Ra kinship,” I explain to them.
Preparing the kids for their first intergalactic Privilege “thanks to the Sun Ra collective,” I say under my breath but voiced loud enough for him to nod with telepathic agreement. I knew he was thinking it too.
“If you’re radiating with enough people in a cinnabar basin, the rocks will melt into quicksilver waves,” as I start tickling their bellies. Familial laughter lingering like an inside joke that lets the day never truly end. “Did you know if you dip your heads under the silvery horizon your springy curls will boost the merc levels in the lake?” provoking even more giggles.
“Remember though,” with a firm shift to a nurturing tone, “the retrograde is for you to reflect. Use your time there calmly. I remember my first retrograde at a cinnabar,” glancing over at their father knowing his eyes would meet mine. Cause that was also our first intergalactic trip together. “I struggled with telling the difference between my shadow and my reflection against those heavy ripples,” they notice how my skin subtly sieverts as I recall the memory. Their eyes syncing with how the radiation gently pulsates through my skin. Even though it’s visibly hot enough to melt any cinnabar basin into a mercury lake, it helps them fall into a peaceful slumber.
“It’s your Sun Ra Privilege,” I gently remind their sleeping breaths.
“A Privilege it is,” my partner reassures. They’re fast asleep.
“Ya know everytime they go on this trip,” he whispers as we close their door. “We wait until the mercury orbit is within the visible parsec range” which is nearly 0.6 AU radially out from where we live. “And we know the kids are physically the closest they’ll ever be to a spiritual grounding...” he goes on.
“And probably covered from head to toe in dusty vermillion hues ...” I chuckle knowing where he’s going with this. “And yet ... I still can’t believe my glasses are still at the bottom of that damn basin”.