I’ve become acquaintances with a spider outside my house-one that’s made a home. A spider I’ve gotten to know on the nights I feel most alone. Striped with signs of poison-most would only recognize its danger. And yet even that sort of knowledge fails to convince me that we’re strangers. I’ve kneeled too many times-motioning the censored lights to obey my will. One night I even witnessed my eight legged friend mummify his kill. I watched the prey as it spun-an intricate web of life and death. The venomous nature of my acquaintance should have subtracted me of my breath. But kneeling there inspecting the web-I thought of my life today and how it was before, How could I possibly feel anything but respect for a spider that just arrived and has already made something more?
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