Wednesday, February 24, 2010

What A Web He Weaves

Still the spider string clings to my skin
spanning my wrists in a slender chain
and the light sticks to it
making it shine silver.
How it glows, it glows!

They swing slowly
the slightest of bonds
the softest of shackles
but I am bound and o!
How it burns, it burns!

Of what a little thing this pain
a look, a thought, an absent word
and I am tied again
a silent sacrifice and willing
How I love, I love!

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