The tongue and the peak of your career speak through the same mouth. Mercury, the part of you that names things and splices loose wires together, lands on the meridian, the visible heading your work crests toward. Word and the public peak hold one degree, fused. Step into your vocation and you step out talking, explaining, weaving the message as you go, the sentence half-built before you reach the chair. The world reads you as quick, fast to the question and faster to the reply. What you put before the crowd always passes through the filter of fast speech, and there, in the said, sits your public signature, plain to anyone listening from across the room.
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