The Web

“The Web”

What makes me need you, terribly?
You are gone when I am sleeping; unbearably.
It’s something of a tragic kind of bliss
How our lives joined just to separate like this.
And how we separated to join in another kiss.

We have drunk of that wine most fair,
Tasted what only could be an answered prayer.
And its so empty on the outside seeing through
The webs I wove; the silk I made for you,
But did you not partake of the weaving, too?

What is wrong with a little recollected taste
Looking through the blood interlaced
Upon that thread between what was then,
And what we dare to feel again?

I don’t want to scare you twice,
You don’t want to break my heart
But perhaps that is the price
Since we pulled our strands apart?

And who here has ensnared who?
Was it I that feasted of you?
I remember the banquet
I remember I begging to commit
To something that we might weave,
And when you turn to leave
It’s only an illusion—you look so beautiful
When you’re weaving around my soul.

© 2022 Marten Hoyle