Last Night (Ariadne’s Thread)

 Last Night (Ariadne’s Thread)


When the sun goes down

and does not rise

I will savour this sunset most of all


gold and ruby and Tyrian purple

blending into Cretan sapphire sky


But more precious than these:

fingers intertwined

knees pressed together

feet swinging as one above the tide

your tired head against my forearm


I hope that we can rewind this thread of memory—

on that day

when Ariadne lays down her spindle—

with my hand held in yours

and my own tired head resting on your arm

Then may I return to these treasured hues,

the comfort of skin as well as sun,

and hold on to these moments 

when I could keep you warm and safe

and I will smile, knowing then

that my last sunset

is not yours.



Dedit oscula nato non iterum repetenda suo

Ovid's Metamorphoses (Book VIII)


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