by Danielle Casias
She, a sickly slick spider,
Maliciously mauls at
my mistakes,
Covering me, smothering me
with her web of silk,
Too tight for air to escape.
No new air.
Me, a rosy reflection of her youth–
Still a small spider clinging to her spikes
Suffocated but too intimidated
To drop down to the dew drops.
Her many eyes see red as she
Spits and sprays me with her venom.
She is fast and I am new.
I see black and I wobble back.
