They Are Arachnophobic

I really don’t

care what they think.

And you’re part of ‘they’ now.
The moment you turned
from my feature-forgiving dark
to be analyzed (and, you were right, approved)
by their fluorescence

you were one of them.
It’s a wonder they wanted you,
filthy with phone records
and garlanded in my heartstrings
(They would call them webs.
You would believe them.)
But I guess there are ways to
wash those things right out of you-
some kind of lye that kills love
and makes even remembering seem abhorrent.

Don’t remember.
As soon as you sigh fondly
at the thought of any blessed day we shared,
they will cast you out to darkness
and you will not find me.
I have found new reclusion
and am mending my web.