Ponder

Let the silken threads of everything that revolts you
form at the corners of your mouth,
and trail from there into the weavings
of the spider’s abdomen blocking your view.

She spins it all into one pearlized egg
holding bobbin gingerly betwixt jointed legs,
before your eyes that cannot look away
and your lips retracted in fear.

When done,
she drops the pulsing white cocoon into your mind
for you to chew on
before scuttling to fascinate another
who does not yet know
that everything belongs.