I still can’t bear the thought of it
though a few weeks have passed
since the spider
crawled up my bathrobe
not inside it
thank god
but only some old fleece
between my unaware flesh
and the blackness of him
that feathery quick beast
how long had he been crawling on me
I scream these words
but all that comes out
are vowels
I am sure if I had been carrying my child
I would have dropped him
on his head
I know what you’re thinking
that spider was more afraid of me
than I was of it
but that’s where you’re wrong
he’s in the dirt
or some drainpipe
having his dank little spider life
while I’m left weak-kneed and twitching
thinking every piece of lint
or tickle of thread on my arm
is him
back
to hunt me.