Ariadne and Doctor Ramani

from a painting by Evelyn de Morgan

On the outside nestled in a ruby dress
you might take Ariadne for a goddess.
A surge of titian locks capes a shoulder,
the other glows like creamy chowder.
I met her recently at the Portrait Gallery
took her out to tea in Covent Garden.  
As she sipped the flowered porcelain,
savoring cup cakes began to explain,
melted like icing into the mouth of time.

In the purple of the night he had shone
solid as bronze whispering suggestions
that ignited her mind.
She got completely lost in his maze.
But when his ship disappeared in the mist
he messaged that she was a tidsoptimist.
She lay on the beach a piece of wreckage.
even forgot her maiden name until
on YouTube she discovered Doctor Ramani.

She realized that in her hand was a thread
that could unravel why Theseus had sailed away.
He was a narcissist who never says he’s sorry.
It was not for her to pay by dangling on a shelf
in a national museum blaming herself.
Ariadne is now reframing her portrayal
in the perspective of an academic
She is doing a PhD on the politics of identity
at Goldsmiths university.

Kate Hill-Charalambides
 
If you have any thoughts about this poem,  Kate Hill-Charalambides would be pleased to hear them