Weaver of thread
\nspun from the edge of sundown.
\nFrom the catchfly of flame
\nMichael tells me of his spider.
\nHis narrative trembles
\nwith intuitive understanding
\nof his peril.
\nThe beautiful that wears
\na death mask.
\nA warning to the innocent
\nthat danger is bestowed
\nto the frail and fragile
\nwhose bewitching forms
\ninvite the senseless cruelty
\nof the callous.
\nPunishment for those
\nwho would trespass on
\nmidnight black
\nand red tattoos
\nof a beastie,
\nand be unaware
\nof what they offend,
\nby the dross of venom
\nin their tiny fangs.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Weaver of thread spun from the edge of sundown. From the catchfly of flame Michael tells me of his spider. His narrative trembles with intuitive…<\/p>\n