Wash The Spider Out

By. Amanda Little Rose

The eight-legged spider mocks me
with all eight of its eyes.

From my side of the bed, closest to the wall,
I reach for the place where tiny spinnerets
used to spin silk threads in my loins,
Painting provencal webs around the room.

The eight-legged spider mocks me
with all eight of its eyes,
And descends from its corner of the ceiling.

I close my eyes,
And continue to claw
My middle
For anything left

Of what I didn’t want,
Of what could’ve been mine.

Amanda Little Rose is a high school English teacher and freelance poet from the small state of Rhode Island, currently working toward her MFA in Creative Writing. You can follow her on Instagram @littlerose.poetry