A spider scuttled across
the carpet, its legs whisking
fibers into spools. My
boyfriend eased to squish it,
but I shrieked and it
flailed, eight eyes
glaring at his sole.
A testament to spirituality,
it laces tales of theology, and
yet defies santion and God.
The shoe plunges into the
softened back and hundreds of
avengers spill from the carcus
like croissants. Tiny plagues to
devour mother and destroyer alike.
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