spider

                         pretty penny sherbet
                  lime-eyed and locked in orange
              how they laughed as all the porridge
                          pushed out windows
                             knocked in doors.
               and though some begged to get in
                  while the others wished for out
            there you were, sweet nosebleed ghost
                  . . . unwelcomed host without.
             so faeries made their mushroom rings
                where you danced in naked plight
            those points like sweet, creamed coffee
                    that patch of curled, red light.
              all these years the pot was emptied
                     but the honey bubbled still . . .
                when you asked to never hunger
                     you were eaten by your will.