spider

I was so tiny... My legs were long and they walked in the floor, rose me to the ceiling and danced for me when they played that tune I love. I had been living in this enormous cube for ages, if I remember well.

My body was warm, my fear was water, my obsession, it was definetely you. I know I am stubborn, but your long precious hair made me feel like a, like a… Your hair made me feel, and I had never thought that was possible.

A side of me always told me you were down there looking at me, singing so I moved back and forward, weaving that simple thing. It looked like an apple, but it had no tail and it was deformed. I reckon people like you use it as the drawing for what I feel, but I thought mine would be more special, as it was made of silk.

Once a week, you became older and got angry. Your sword made of feathers hit my art and destroyed it. I hid in a small corner so you could not see me. As if you had magical powers, you entered our palace afterwards and started singing again to the Sun, the Moon and the journey we would take in the future.

One day, I decided to tell you, so I walked out of my stone hut and stayed next to you. My teeth were clean; my breath, so fresh; my hair, cut and combed. I touched your finger with one of my legs, the strongest one. I was sure you would be impressed.

Your voice rose up, you were no longer singing our tune. Did you really mean to be so terrifying? I had to run up to my place while you were chasing me with that big bottle. I made my last effort to communicate with you and weaved that sign to you for the last time. I ran drawing that strange apple.

The raindrops that came out of your colourful bottle made me fall asleep.

I woke up far away from the paradise we had built so long ago.

You slept and figured out in dreams what I ment to be.

I spent the rest of my days looking for you.

You judged me without knowing me.

I got weak and old and spent my last week in an apple, where I could smell you.

You left my web right were I put it and learned to never let go those who feel like an apple because of you.

I took my last breath loving you in mid-summer.

You took yours much later in the bed under my web, holding hands with a man that never took the risk I did.