i am friends with a giant Spider.
she builds a new web every night, big and complicated and threating.
i sit on the porch once everyone’s gone to bed
and we talk about all the people in this house,
about how my capacity to love is larger than mine to hate,
or that at least that’s the goal,
and she tells me i can do it.
well, really, she tells me nothing. because
she is a Spider and is just building a web, 
and i am a child drinking out of airplane-sized bottles of liqour, 
but i’d like to think that if my Spider could,
my Spider would tell me that
i don’t have to waste my time hating him.