Curate, connect, and discover
Thursday, 26th August 2021
I haven't left but the spiders are already moving in
I find them in my bed, my curtains, dead and coiled in an old blanket fort
They ring the chimes that hang from my ceiling light
And find space among the creaking boards
I had a dream of this once, spiders hung in every corner and footfall
Taking over my life, my memories, as they crawl into the space left before
It is only when I know I am leaving, that I see the dust in the corner
And the tide coming in from the far away shore