The Queen Of Spiders

The Queen Of Spiders


I told you I loved you,

but you just laughed:

“You don’t love me.

You just love the idea of me.”

I try to talk,

but the cobwebs

stuck to the roof of my mouth,

shut it tight.

“You can’t blame it on me.

I’ve already cleared my part

of the house.

Maybe you should take a good look

in the



on the wall,

I guess my web didn’t fit here after all.



yet you look at me

with those deadly eyes

and all I want to do

is dress you up

in silk and gauze

sinking my teeth

deep in your flesh

drinking your


until the record breaks.


You know my stomach

is big enough

for two?

You do not,

do not,

know what you do,

Little Black Shoe.

I would have to live

a thousand years,

to wait for you.


The moon lifts

her sheepish grin

cast over my

glistening threads

in the wind.

This is my home,

so carefully knit.

I let you in,

but you can never


Pumpkin Boy,


I swear I see your

face in every drop of dew

when the Sun wakes me

in that moment

caught between worlds,

I swear you are there

next to me,

carved out of marble

for me to break my teeth on.


The sad part is

it’s just a reflection

of the sky

shrunk and

flipped upside-down

peering back at me

dripping down

my web

before the hunger

settles back in.