The spider, she follows me.
There at the door, waiting.
A blackened body with legs close to her center,
I see her now just like in my dreams.
What is this world anyways?
Is it any different then a dream?
What makes it so; can you tell?
I’m still trying to untangle from her web,
But she has me in her strands of love.
A love unknown and of the finest silk,
Intricately catching rays of sun and morning dew.
Her presence calls me to myself.
In a moment of wonder, I ask,
Who are you?
All of your creation, it can be gone in a moment,
Is it worth all of the effort?
She keeps on going,
Weaving.

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