Like hunters shooting at stars too far
from earth, the weariness of the spider
is like a dying panther caught
in a trap at the edge of the savanna
as morning surrenders
to the anger of the sun.
As you burn your brand into
the vastness of the savanna.
I will burn my brand into your skin.
My eminence will trap you
and you will be caught
like I was caught.
The spider is a weary lioness
who sits at the fringes of the savana
and thinks, despite the sun’s acuity
she will wait until night to eat.
The stars will be visible then
And the hunters will think
their light is the same light
that shines in her eyes.