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| illustration by Gustave Doré |
Arachne's dawn is a fibrous reach
(Athena had empathy for her)
she sleight-of-handed
herself away
before daylight
broke open
Arachne's fate
her free will was
somewhere between
a soul within ego
and amniotic clock-ocean-fungi in bloom
mouth breathers
essence, she thought
even purely inspired
if it is born
without infinity
is only
a vague memory
a toothy somewhat
Athena admired
this weaver's belief
in herself, though
she thought
what a tendril wrought
root poem
she is
leaving iron
in the fire
-------------------
where the webbing went
a balm cool night
dagger waxing
full womb
searches
open palms
seed and inspire
sped away
from reality...
paused
clause-d
hinges
unwind
sensory
desire distracts
you from certain
realities rearing
the ugly head
another horseman
rides, cloaked, fed
underbelly soft hairs
mostly out of sight
self loathing
what do we do to make ourselves
take a sip of poison as comfort
is this the caged narrative we signed off on
landing in dark
most fun when
it rains reigns
calculated survival(s)
archetypal, formless
but most assuredly
real to you...
especially when
talking to one's self
in poem
uttered
sounding mad
dare express
a loud
anything
that can
rein us in
applied
hem lines
seams, glides
and spent
embroidery…
hooded rider
is wayward test,
magnetic charm
she'd kill you
with only
her eyes
let alone
her flesh
and rubies
wielded
she does deft death
with guile(s)
well water alone
can not draw you
back to life
un-ribbon-ing blows
once you chanced
drinking you in...
inside your last breath
you realize just why
her weaves are so fine
you notice how
she has gathered
your shadows
while looming
near enough
to your fading
warm pulse
to watch
your bones
be buried
slow throw spill
spindled to
what you had
expressed as noise
held quiet
each thread,
it seems
was not
running from
conversation
blood and time
began to beg
for skeleton supper
long before
we ever knew to
speak in poem
here, where
words are
caught shimmer
constructs and bombs
you are
permanently scented
with every you
you'll empty
into wanting
what you
cannot have
desperation
lingers
long past
last call
"we know
we know",
scream
the chains
rattle, whisper
and rust,
"her dawn is strand fine silver reach"
EJR ©
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