The walls I built are up to some social code
Not seen in any sort of normal home.
They turned out to be only a maze,
Through which you are plucking your way
Heedless of the minotaur.
Or perhaps you are the minotaur.

It won’t be the first time for me
Feeling your warm breath
around your nose ring flooding
A stream of turmeric and coffee
A rolling tide sighing softly
And before I know it my feet are sunk in your sand.

This labyrinth is not a vault.
There is nothing locked away.
Its treasure is not buried.
Its mouth beckons.
Its halls are yours.