The Spider
Mouse
3 May 2004
I feel like the half starved spider in the window; sustaining myself on the moth let in on a summer's night or the clumsy roach in winter. My heart and mind are motionless as I wait for the innocent laugh or insightful thought to fall into my web. I pounce upon the question and drain every delightful moment from answering it. I spin my silver stories in the peace of the darkness. I bask in the warming glow of the poem that fills my mind with images and floods my body with emotions.
Inspired by the spider in my bathtub.
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