Spiders’ Dance

In this tangled web sparkling with dew
We are butterflies caught in this trap of habit
Using the spider and ourselves to spin each other
Into a cocoon of hope and love: then bound together by fear
Trying to free ourselves, unknowingly damaging the other
Spider dies from the Autumn freeze as leaves litter the web’s beauty

Yet we still remain dancing in our cocoons
Spinning each other’s thoughts for food and then purging of such filth
Because anything outside of personal need does not deserve risk

Two butterflies, diseased by entrapped narcissism, die in a web lost to memory
And became spiders, forever feeding off of each other
So lost in the dance of the spider’s web

spun beautifully tragic –
still breathing in and out the cold air of Eden

Becoming sin – still dancing in our cocoons

© /skin/ /ˈpōətrē/

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