I saw a spider in the temple today,
a black speck on white stone.
Oh Spider, what hast thou been doing here?
Shall I gently crush you
between the folds of a white handkerchief,
to purge my Father’s house?
Shall I reach hither my finger
to let you bite me,
in fulfillment of Adamic prophecy?
Divine arachnid, I’ve just heard your origin story,
watched your watercolor creation.
Maybe I’ll place you on the altar,
or baptize you in the sink.
Perhaps I’ll simply open this door
and shuttle you out
into the lone and dreary waste.
No, I’ll eat you—
sacrament of exoskeleton and venom—
and let you scuttle in my mouth
before we become one flesh.
I will taste hair and salt,
slice you between my teeth like a sour fruit,
and have my dominion.
