You โ€“ Spider

Author: Guinevere Clark

Donโ€™t walk by my laundry stand,
Iโ€™ve just hung a thread.

Donโ€™t send me a text โ€“ Iโ€™ll climb 
between the lines to look for you.

Donโ€™t use that still eye on me,
Iโ€™ll lose my rest, this incubation.

Donโ€™t make shadows play
trickery in the space Iโ€™ve made

or wet me with cold love. I need
to stay dry, grow โ€“ hairy and wild. 

Stay away from this chalice bath,
where I think like a statue.

Webs โ€“ fresh casts. Donโ€™t flick
them into non-existence, keep me

on a thin path. I want to rest, be centred,
dream in the hexagon net with my catch.

Iโ€™ve done enough running. Keep your knocks
and traps, holding up my body for inspection

in the wine glass. Yes, itโ€™s a safe dome,
this capture, for you, me โ€“ curled

to a circle, afraid of my own legs. 
Stop โ€“ at the door, even your breath will

kill my silk, your musings of tonight
or tomorrow night, for our death-dance.

Share This

Loading Authors