In the spider web of night where she waits with eyes so bright and blue
is where you wait with bated breath
to fall again into the death of yet another morning light and with her legs she’ll hold you tight and not let go.
Spiders flow and spiders go where weak men fear to tread
and lay you down upon their bed until they’ve feasted and you’ve bled another night away.

I see no spiders in the day, and though I look each and every way they are not there
but in the darkness their eyes glare at me
stare hungrily and greedily
to feed on me
I am not free but trapped inside the spiders lair and she waits there
for me.
copyright © John Smallshaw all rights reserved