Webs Woven

While she was sleeping

(Or perhaps comatose, unaware)

A web was spun

Undetected despite watchful eyes

 

Walking through her day

It ensnared her

Though she moved steadfastly on

Tenacious filaments cling

Brush-off resistant

Whispering against her skin

Persistently reminding her

In an intermittent itch-tickle

They linger yet upon her

 

Strands of connection

Woven in shared survival

Haphazardly draped

Across moments and days

Stick, stray-hair-like

To face, arms and heart

 

Tenuous waifs of fiber

Weave themselves into her being

Laughs, tears and conversation

She never wanted to own

Deposit gluey residue

No rubbing or scrubbbing will dislodge

 

She desists then

In the knowledge

Silken threads among treacherous network

Layer textured imprints on her soul

Torn tendrils will be carried

As she makes her way back home.

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