for a future exoskeleton 

in any given corner a spider 
might be completing a crossword puzzle.
my great aunt is a spider sometimes 
& we have to pick her up 
with a plastic cup & a sheet of paper
& let her out into the yard 
where no one will smash her.
a broken spider can look 
like an asterisk or a pile
of fallen men. the street tilts so high
all the cars roll down & away from us.
we tried chasing the cars but eventually
gave up & took to traveling
on all fours.
when the spiders compare notes 
they think i am not the kindest human
but maybe not the worst either.
in my last life 
i knit a web in my own hair
& let the spiders nest there.
i have been walking through
many webs lately. some of them
are thinner than others.
my mom is not a spider but she does
knit & she harvests yard
from any unsuspecting surface.
once, she pried a whole spool
from my thumb. is the opposite of unraveling,
raveling? if so then 
the spider have been hard at work 
raveling me back together. 
insects have more experience 
with grief than mammals do,
especially spiders. they are weary 
& weathered. they will not 
sugarcoat the truth. 
they sit me down in a circle
on the floor of my living room
where i don't have a sofa
& they tell me i need 
to try & knit something
of my own. once i knit
a have of a bag with my mom's help.
another time i tried to knit 
a scarf but i never knew
how to tie it off. now iam 
knitting a staircase
one that's short enough
for any creature to ascend.
the staircase is a direct path
up into my mouth. i want to 
let the spiders inspect my insides.
hold their flashlights up
to my teeth & pass their judgements.
i will ask them several times 
"how am i doing?" but they will
not respond. a muffled voice asks
if one day i would like to have
an exoskeleton. 
i reply that i would love that.
o! to having glinting arms
& shiny elbows & protection 
for all my softness. 
the voice replies
it's not yet time. i wrap myself
in tinfoil & wait.