I anticipate the silent shifting of footsteps,
for the flustered fumbling of rubble down in the burrow,
and her squinting eye to occlude.
My friend doesn’t notice me much,
but I always have my eyes on her.
I am a camera with eight orbicular lenses,
as I wait, poised in the dusty shadows.
My web is a distinct design of intertwining threads,
but are much bigger prey is at my desire.
I scuttle, I scurry, my hinged claws at the ready.
A silent squeak,
followed by silence…
My fangs were like talons,
as I sunk my virulent venom through her skin.
We could only be friends for so long…