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When she looks out at me,
When I have dressed and
Made-up and made believe,
I see her sorrow, her pity,
Her sense of loss. She is what
My life lacks. She has missed
Every train, every boat, every
Voyage. Her life is like Ariadne's.
No hero returned for her. She
Showed me how to escape the beast
That is my manhood. She led me
Through the labyrinth of my doubts.
But I can only leave her there, trapped,
Islanded, unknown. She smiles sadly
At me and my doomed flight. I might
Be anything if I could be her. She knows.
The mirror sees me go.
Thanks for reading. Say hello any time x
I love poetry and I like yours. You have shaped the mythological images very well. Ariadne was abandoned by a hero, but rescued by a god. So we always have hope.
