Dialogue 2
Ariadne and Theseus
T: I dream of you. I dreamt of you last night. I woke up in the cusp of dawn happy, so very, very happy, and then suddenly my cell, like your city, fell into pieces. I miss you terribly…have you been sleeping?
A: Sleep is fictional. I laid lengthwise in the helpless pockets of my room waiting for the night to swallow me whole. I was empty.
T: And terrified.
A: …The moon is full…
T: Of heartache. I saw you in a dream
A: It was only a dream. Are you rested?
T: I slept so deeply I could not wake up alone. I need you more than ever. I have a story the world needs to hear!
A: We are but two lonely nomads, speak.
T: In the hollow of the night, I heard Saturn whisper “I love you”, looking at your worn-in shoes, felt the birth of a comet traveling up your legs. Centered in the universe, your arms were Mars’s axis. But you were never angry.
A: You are cold!
T: I know, it’s this tragedy of speech.
A: You break every bone in my body with your shivers. You burn my throat with moonshine and tattoo my tongue so I can only talk about you. Release me from this nightmare and hurry back! (Theseus walks to window) What do you see?
T: A jungle of Cypress trees, each leaf as sharp as glass. Maps drawing themselves on my palms wearing complex patterns that colour me vulnerable. Camouflage abandoned on the island of our birth.
A: You will be safe (Hands Theseus the yarn). Love rests in every crevice—hiding in ash trays, across the dashboard, under plush velvet mats, aflame in my hands.
T: I am too focused on the romantic. Maybe you’ll sleep alone tonight.
A: Why would you say such a thing?
T: Because of this specific form of broken heart. We are torn apart by this outside factor, this storm, and it will not pass. God will it to pass, but it won’t.
A: You’re reducing me
T: No
A: You’re reducing me! I stand before you, my soul uncovered. If I dig my hand into your pocket I search for your wrist to grasp. If I dig into your lips I will clamp. If I dig into your heart, let me stay there…I am by your side. I’m not just a lover.
T: To call you my lover is not a euphemism, it is the strictest word I could call you. It is the perfect poem.
A: You will return.
T: I will try.
A: You must return. You must let me wonder at your beauty, the full human being which you are.
T: Perhaps. A love reincarnated, again brought into flesh. Where is a grave not a rosebed?
A: What are you saying?
T: Where is a coffin not a vessel?
A: You’re coming back!
T: Where is he who has not changed and where are they who have not transformed? I want you to be prepared for whatever may come
A: You will be back.
T: So be it.
A: And when you do.
T: And when I do I will kiss the face of rejuvenation (embrace)
A: Your words curl like smoke into the night. Hurry back.
End Scene
T: I dream of you. I dreamt of you last night. I woke up in the cusp of dawn happy, so very, very happy, and then suddenly my cell, like your city, fell into pieces. I miss you terribly…have you been sleeping?
A: Sleep is fictional. I laid lengthwise in the helpless pockets of my room waiting for the night to swallow me whole. I was empty.
T: And terrified.
A: …The moon is full…
T: Of heartache. I saw you in a dream
A: It was only a dream. Are you rested?
T: I slept so deeply I could not wake up alone. I need you more than ever. I have a story the world needs to hear!
A: We are but two lonely nomads, speak.
T: In the hollow of the night, I heard Saturn whisper “I love you”, looking at your worn-in shoes, felt the birth of a comet traveling up your legs. Centered in the universe, your arms were Mars’s axis. But you were never angry.
A: You are cold!
T: I know, it’s this tragedy of speech.
A: You break every bone in my body with your shivers. You burn my throat with moonshine and tattoo my tongue so I can only talk about you. Release me from this nightmare and hurry back! (Theseus walks to window) What do you see?
T: A jungle of Cypress trees, each leaf as sharp as glass. Maps drawing themselves on my palms wearing complex patterns that colour me vulnerable. Camouflage abandoned on the island of our birth.
A: You will be safe (Hands Theseus the yarn). Love rests in every crevice—hiding in ash trays, across the dashboard, under plush velvet mats, aflame in my hands.
T: I am too focused on the romantic. Maybe you’ll sleep alone tonight.
A: Why would you say such a thing?
T: Because of this specific form of broken heart. We are torn apart by this outside factor, this storm, and it will not pass. God will it to pass, but it won’t.
A: You’re reducing me
T: No
A: You’re reducing me! I stand before you, my soul uncovered. If I dig my hand into your pocket I search for your wrist to grasp. If I dig into your lips I will clamp. If I dig into your heart, let me stay there…I am by your side. I’m not just a lover.
T: To call you my lover is not a euphemism, it is the strictest word I could call you. It is the perfect poem.
A: You will return.
T: I will try.
A: You must return. You must let me wonder at your beauty, the full human being which you are.
T: Perhaps. A love reincarnated, again brought into flesh. Where is a grave not a rosebed?
A: What are you saying?
T: Where is a coffin not a vessel?
A: You’re coming back!
T: Where is he who has not changed and where are they who have not transformed? I want you to be prepared for whatever may come
A: You will be back.
T: So be it.
A: And when you do.
T: And when I do I will kiss the face of rejuvenation (embrace)
A: Your words curl like smoke into the night. Hurry back.
End Scene
