Thinking back on ages when I was angry, <br />Spinning anger in webs... <br />Catching my reflection in bits of <br />Shattered dew, <br />Thinking how funny my thousand eyes <br />Shone <br />And how sad it was that they saw... <br />How horribly, greedily, they drank in the <br />Poison of <br />Sight. <br /> <br />Catching my reflection and watching it <br />Beat veined wings <br />Against the crystal threads of my home, <br />My anger, <br />Spun from my body and sticky with <br />Millions of years <br />Of feeling nothing <br />As soft eyes closed... <br /> <br />What day was it when the first dry <br />Wings fell to the ground, betraying me <br />To the trusting things as <br />Predator... <br /> <br />What day was it when the butterflies, <br />The kind, lovely beings, ceased their <br />Visits, and <br />Cursed my <br />Sight... <br /> <br />If, by spinning, I could empty <br />My belly of anger, <br />I would web the stars... <br />Then stalk the highest corners of <br />Eternity... <br />Crawling on my belly into <br />The House of God. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />Published by Gryphon, University of South Florida<br /><br />elysabeth faslund<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/arachne-full-version/
