of my living room
window I count
three spiders 
and realize, with a
gasp, that one of
them is eating 

another spider.
I get so close 
my lashes 
graze the glass.
I’ve never seen 
the feast before
and I praise
the pane 
for getting
me so close.

She is liquefying
the insides and
drinking with
the force of
her whole body;
somehow not chewing
makes her seem 
more elegant.

Her legs look as sharp
and clean as needles,
they shake her web 
in such a beastly way

I think her hunger 
must have been 
a fierce burden
she’s now well
shot of.

She’s such a
pretty cannibal.
In the middle 
of loving her 
I look at the other
two, and wonder 
who will be next,

if I can still
love whichever
one is left.