The spider is still
staring at me in the shower,
asking to be the mint
to my chocolate chip
while I stomp in slingbacks
on wrings of generic brand
paper towels shaped in
the wings of dragonflies
that do not move ever.
Eight billion invisible
spider eyes scare me to
self-consciously avoid
blinding or drowning.
I wish I were not so green
with paranoia, or shy about
the seasick in my own hair...
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I really felt something reading this - a strong sadness for some reason. But it's beautifully written...
ReplyDelete- Tishna
It was a very strange dream! I always wonder what prompt them?
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