Spider

she hangs

between
    drywall & cement
    floor & painted wall
    inside her tangled mess

resting
    belly up & naked
    private parts
             exposed

her crimson birthmark
calls out
her name


I wonder if she’s weary
    her day filled
    spinning
                fetching a silk taste
                            a fly-by
caught in a cycle    spinning

me
      I scoop lint
      from the dryer    weather
      strip a leaky window

quotidian comforts
              kill what’s precious

both of us
              intimate assassins
                             spinning

to cover
              death’s dark cheek
              his scratch & stubble

                            the ink-black
                            deep in the iris of his eye

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