Cobwebbed

Her hands, asleep in tulip bulbs,

unfurl to chase the light—

out lurches the spider that lives inside her

and spins its cobwebs in the hollow of her heart.

Morning dew kisses silky sinews, 

luminescent as though spun by the stars 

and refracting from

eye to eye to eye to eye

of that all-seeing, many-legged Machiavelli

who cobwebbed her away to his woodland lair.

He unravels her wings,

scatters them on the wind;

foes of the forest beware!