Widow’s Cage

Silent spiders glide in menace,

singing on their crystal veins,

spinning silk with vague disclosures,

  tattered lies and dust for thread.

Prayers she weaves at rakish angles,

  (dreams that squirm 

    and fears that dangle)

Crumbling cisterns froth with rage.

Walls that hide a broken faucet-

   rusting lonely,

   Widow’s cage.

Whispered panic,

banal proverbs-

cracks that map your fragile shell…

blind and crippled

  not forgotten,

crawling slowly,

little snail.

Heart that bleeds into another,

 buried hope that she betrays.

Fearful of the legs she stands on-

Pious gravity obeyed.

Monumental crises auctioned,

 fixations that soothe her  pain.

Cloistered within dark distractions-

  she should leave,

  but must remain.

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