Hatching Another Scheme

Such silken wisps of black eyebrows,
the hairs like spindly spider legs,
clever weavers, and quick to rouse,
pale eyelids just like spider eggs.
Veil-webbed eyes, each ready to hatch,
brimming with such a restless brood,
her gaze cocooned taut with a batch
of desires both profane and lewd.
Her eyelids open, at long last,
and mascara teardrops crawl out,
spinning their spinnerets so fast—
a tear stains black the widow’s pout.

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