Creep

—

While you read my letter, I killed a spider,

who casually tried to outwit a writer.

Not for profit; nor for sport,

it’s simple goal I meant to thwart;

but merely because it looked like you:

those wind blown hairs and eyes pale blue…

And as we spoke, your voice did flutter,

while beneath my thumb I felt it shudder:

You unveiled a statue of your children’s father,

and I grinned and I shook as I pushed down harder;

the spider’s sac at once gave way;

its very essence dispersed as spray…

you let slip a sigh, as if on cue:

pause then silence — a sign you knew…

Your woven tales at last dissolved,

I set about to wash my wall.

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