from disentangling his memory’s skein;
his not-yet bloodied fingers had unspooled
the rubric with which Ariadne schooled
her should-be husband to the elusive door.
But gratitude’s a fragile guarantor
of love: they sailed to Dia, where he left
the princess, in one fleeting day bereft
of father, mother, lover, water, and shelter.
Weeping increased her thirst. The unshaded swelter
would soon, she thought, evaporate her life.