spiders

Love comes from out of the corners
a spider who
can no longer make
a web
silver threads
broken
trailing in bits behind her

An abstraction
this spider
her web
a mosaic drawn upon the window pane


Drawn as he says good bye
As she walked down the corridor
8 am
the threads of the carpet so low so worn one flat surface
she goes sliding to the elevator


Every night
she dreams the same dream
spider fingers crawl down her neck
resting on her shoulder


Every night
She draws the same
spider on a paper
waiting for his message