Witness
the birth of a new planet:
an amassing sphere of spiderlings,
packed like crushed coriander seeds,
quietly consolidating their dream of an
imperfect circle. Disturbed, they run, a broken
yolk, in all directions, plot a constellation, range
like a rash on the warm skin of the wall, before
amending, regrouping, adapting. Determinedly
rounding. Remembering again their unlike
pole. One world, for now,
mended.
Meadowsweet by Hannah Durham (Lucent Dreaming Issue 9)
“Now, he notices only my absence, the things I have not done: a thin layer of dust in the hallway, an unprepared meal in the pantry. I’ve started abandoning tasks just to see if he notices, the calculated neglect like a beam from a distant lighthouse.”
