slamming my head
onto the blanketed table
as the spider on my shoulder
shakes its head until it dies
while questioning with a webbed mouth
"why do you look outside?"
but the window is a mirror at night
I see myself and I see the world
I see the stars falling onto me
Fattening my heart with junk words
like vomiting speech bubbles
as the snow are now leaves
as the flow cannot leave
from my life as a leaf
a webbed leaf
the artistic impression of the spider
by the mirror window
it crawls into my nostrils
and I breathe the webbed life
On the day I grow eight legs
the aliens will lick my shoes
they will live in my cobweb
and I will bow to them
because spiders are future aliens
so just let me breathe
after spilling some of my tea
a goodbye to passing time
over a blanketed table
and a spider exits my throat.
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