There are days when the alcohol clears and I remember
golden thread unwinding
leading him away from me
leading him back.

I left the thread in the maze,
my great mistake.

He is at sea somewhere,
his (daughter) wife (my sister) beside him
and I am alone on the shore
watching him retreat across the waves
without a string in my hands.

I would tell Phaedra to love him dear
but she prefers her husbands young and bronzed
and waiting for seduction.

I would give him to Hippolyta to watch
but he is hers already
(always was)
and anyway, why ask another woman
to keep my lover safe?

I would yell for him to return
but his gone.

It's alright, really.
I have wine and naked women
and a drunken lout of a god
to hold me close at night
and whisper sweetness in my ear.

And if the wine tastes a little like Theseus,
and if I drink it a little too much,
no one will notice or know
to bind me with looms and needles.