arachnophobias ensnared in the web of Charlottes;
Oh wherefore art thou Romeo to save mon Juliet?
but how to save a dead boy from a dead girl …
I have much to say, and so little web to spin;
Once upon a time I was suspended upon your shrine
of legged lovers & blinded thieves hanging by the hangnails of greed
today my lips are bare, no pout in the dense of my kisses;
tongue is unhinged, pores blocked by a pungency
of no glisten in its glaze but are no match for the  
eyes de`absent and detached
of colours that gravitate even the arrogant of man;
cheeks, lack [their] luster, the need of your defibrillator like a father’s
nurturing kiss, and what of the foundation that make~up
the false prophecies of a woman gifted for lure`ing
the most vulnerable of creatures to its lair only to find despair
lurking in the shadow within … the womb, it cannot help but to seek
solace in the sins that it creates
I`m sorry, my Love, if I failed you
but at one point I did love you unconditionally
eternally for all the world to see
that your last breath would be the death of me
with the lest of me, forsaken …
does that help with the arachnophobias
in your spiritual den?  have you fed the spiders today?
have you pet their heads and stroked their limbs …
did you sing them an insect`ional hymn?
so many questions, not enough questionable marks
so, and unfortunately, we are forced to answer
but wouldn`t it be grand if we could remain aloof
remain as mutes, deaf and dumb like that crumb
resting dormant in a soulless park for they are never truly constructed
for just one forgiving soul, and what of that one straying pigeon
perching on a broken wing lusting for that same exact crumb
to make it whole again beyond and above the world
through a birds~eye~view just like the way we see the world …
only through the tiniest window of an airplane ~