big spider

i am done killing spiders at this point.
i make little pacts. little handshakes. i say,
"i promise not to bite if you don't."
i don't actually mean that. i don't want
to hurt them even if they do bite. 
this is the catholic still in me. there's
a passage the priest talked about once
where jesus says if someone slaps you you
should turn the other cheek & let them
slap you again which is kind of kinky
if you ask me. the spiders are developing
their own internet. the spiders are singing
in their spider language which is as soft
& sturdy as their thread. i asked once
if the spiders would consider making me
a spun dress. they agreed but only if 
i never showed anyone else. secrets are
what bring us together. i have the dress
but of course i cannot show you. when i die
the spiders will take it back. use it to catch
gnats. there will be a feast. my aunt died
today. i think about the spiders in her house.
what they say to one another. i do not miss
her yet because an absence is not a hole
punched in the drywall. it's something
that grows. the tree in her yard that swells
with pears. the tree out front i climbed.
all the spiders there, singing. 
i want to build a house just for 
the spiders. let them metropolis every corner.
rain comes today & the spiders sleep & i wish
i could sleep too. the fire will not start. 
all us, spinning something. a huge spider
arrives in the bathroom. my partner asks
if i'll kill her. he begs me. her legs are thicker
than toothpicks. when he is gone
i whisper to her. i say, "i will keep you safe,
you just cannot be so bold." my heart breaks.
how many times have i been told that?
the spider listens. crawls behind the toilet.
when my partner is asleep i come to check
on her & she is gone.