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The spider
sees walls I don’t
walks up them
stops for a minute
and twirls, uncertain
of which world
it is in – the one
where it’s safe, feet
on solid ground
or else
the one where it hangs
impossibly
suspended
in nothingness.
Tonight, I’m clumsy
trying
to put my arms through walls,
through wood and concrete
until
I get enough bruises
to remind me
where my body ends
which world I’m in
that I only have
two legs
From issue No. 11, The Wolf, 2005/06