A tiny spider, all by himself,
Spinning a web of the thinnest string
‘Whom do you hope to catch?
For whom is this trap?’
I ask, and watch enthralled for a while
Then peeling my eyes off the window
At my own reflection I stare; I
Powder my face and wear mascara
I paint my lips in the bloodiest of reds
And line my eyes with the darkest of kohls
The spider has crawled to my window sill
Peering at me and responding in kind
‘Whom do you hope to catch?
For whom is this trap?’
