and a fall that broke his brother’s lyre.
Phaedra forgot the fisherman:
What’s wrong, Daddy? Did we ruin your death?
I told mother we made a mistake!
Did we fill the larnax with foreign ash?
Did the waves’ froth pall whiten your face?
Lie down, daddy. You’ve drifted so long.
I’ll call my handmaids to clean you up.
I’ll fetch mother. The false Minos
crumpled a lamb’s kidney hidden
in his palm and wrote a red glyph
on the parapet. She peered down
at her sister’s name, then saw him pointing
at a floor whose windows flaunted blackness
between glowing galleries.
When she realized he was writing with blood,
her footwork purged her filial piety,
and she left her silent sire dripping.