Running through a city I didn't know, to meet a person I had never met. All a few strokes before midnight. Written for National Poetry Day.

"Minotaur"

As a single bead of wineTrickles across mosaic linesI traverse anfractuous streetsLabyrinthine, exceptTime unravels like golden twineBehooving me to be bullishMy champagne bottle, swingingClublike. It's eleven thirty nine.

My grin in the thought of our sinningCurves to match the hornshaped moon.To the palatial hotel of fine china vasesLavish destruction begins in your room.