The spider splat
From her eye contact
Wrapped in attachment,
Dispatching tears tapping,
Imbedding her like webbing

Her inners
Are unsettling
Never forgetting
How she’s letting
It consume all of the good inside
As if that spider had spiked her dried fly
In a past body—
She feels what its like to die-
Clarity and oddity
Both unbearably ensnare
The fingertips of each care
She can’t reach or grasp why
Life passes by
Her mortal coil’s clasp so fast,
Ashes to ashes,
Her cocoon unwraps

Death blooms
A looming
Lunar moon
Moving where its shadow’s cast,
Enveloping, dissolving her mass,
She’s revolving
Inward
Entering the contrast
That indentures her inanimate limbs

She ventures a stone’s throw
From her own soul
Dancing in the winds
Parted by an animal standing in the glens
Nothing ends
But then again
It didn’t begin
And so it goes on
Eyeing,
Dying,
Reviving,
Striving to the sky
Climbing like ivy
Touching the sun
Upon Earth’s top—
It’s the rhythm of what can’t have begun,
What can’t be undone, or ever even stop