I, Ariadne, You, Minotaur
Attempting to read you, and I’m in a minefield
my teeth chattering against the pin of a hand grenade
you placed in my mouth
you said “I wonder, I wonder how beautiful
it would be to see you explode,
explode like a star, every little bit of you sparkling,
stunning, one last spark, shining so fiercely
weaving one last desperate flight for light
dancing your one last arabesque for the night
and finally fading, fading loudly
violently, until you’ve spent all your fire
all that exquisite pitiful thread of life
until a whimper, a whisper,
fading into nothing.”
I finally see you
Minotaur of my dark dreams
savage beast, monster, eater of flesh
and yet you seek not to devour me
only wishing for my death to shower you with
light and beauty, things that are forbidden to you
because they say, you must remain
the horrible legend that you are.
But I, Ariadne, is nobody’s goddess bride nor prize
I, Ariadne, slayer of might and false light, will rise
Towering with you, a mammoth monstrous swelling
shaking the truth out of their sham fables,
destroying, dismantling, the vulnerable I, the savage you.
Come, it’s time to weave our own labyrinth.
A labyrinth both forgiving and unforgiving
merciful and merciless, terrible and beguiling
soothing and horrid, a mirror of everything and nothing.
I, Ariadne, You, Minotaur.
In our own terms, In our own time.
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