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There's a vulnerability, here. an unstirred air, that weighs my neck, like stones. The rest of me, bristles at the breeze, which nudges me, about. I trickle, into the sofa back. A heap, of gently plucked, yet harshly ruffled, feathers. Mouth-blown, into, and out of, formation. I have a pretty clear idea of what those portions, and pieces, of me, are spelling, out, as I sink, into the sofa back. My eternal mask, remains ****** in one hand. My beaded bracelet, lies limply, in the other. I helplessly twist the two, together into knots, that are felt, more than seen. I take up, a torch from its sconce. The flames, whistle and bubble burns, ink their way, across cool palms, like henna swirls as I attempt to lead this stranger, through the maze walls, of my mind.
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Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 4:15 AM UTC
Ariadne (Day 1)
There's a vulnerability, here. an unstirred air, that weighs my neck, like stones. The rest of me, bristles at the breeze, which nudges me, about. I trickle, into the sofa back. A heap, of gently plucked, yet harshly ruffled, feathers. Mouth-blown, into, and out of, formation. I have a pretty clear idea of what those portions, and pieces, of me, are spelling, out, as I sink, into the sofa back. My eternal mask, remains ****** in one hand. My beaded bracelet, lies limply, in the other. I helplessly twist the two, together into knots, that are felt, more than seen. I take up, a torch from its sconce. The flames, whistle and bubble burns, ink their way, across cool palms, like henna swirls as I attempt to lead this stranger, through the maze walls, of my mind.
Ariadne, in Greek mythology, was the possessor, of a special golden thread. It would unwind itself, at her whim, and allow her to guide anyone, safely, through the labyrinth, without becoming lost, forever.
disastrophe
Written by
AP Kate-the-Shrew
Apr 30
Apr 30, 2026 at 4:15 AM UTC
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