Arachnids spin their webs –

hammocks between the trees –

dripping with last night’s rain.

Spiders –

black,

beautiful,

glistening,

juicy – like the fruits in the trees –

crunchy – like the fallen twigs –

quick…but not quick enough.

Spiders –

juicy,

crunchy,

quick…

but not quick enough.

One scurries on the forest floor.

One lonely creature

doesn’t make his way home –

expands his beautiful body

before he curls up and dies.

My first love – like every love before.

updated by @ceri-shaw: 11/24/19 06:16:51PM