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Replying to a comment on:
The Wife and the Spider (Free verse) by Caducus From your lips to mine
you weaved silk in cotton
and a spider crawled
on akimbo shadows.
You screamed my name
yet thought of his,
your web caught me
and I watched you dine on my insides
from my teardrop on silk.
Every lie was a strand
perfectly formed;
usually at weekends
when guilt forced your lips
on the back of my neck
by the digital flicker
where minutes crept,
And tears fell like forgotten heroes.
I thought of his drooling jaw
curdling the breasts that fed our son.
My wife once sang beautifully to him
of mockingbirds sheâd bring
but she brought him a spider and a stepdad
who left when the web was finsihed.
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