by Rickey Rivers Jr.
Spiders find comfort in holes, in warmth.
When we sleep, they enter through mouth, through nose, through ear.
To them we are a system, a cave, a home to those who look for peace and quiet.
The dark and wet within makes us perfect specimens, perfect homes to serve the spider.
We are only just flesh like maze.
Rickey Rivers Jr was born and raised in Alabama. He is a writer and cancer survivor. His work has appeared in Perhappened, Crepe & Penn, Nymphs (among other publications). His third mini collection of 3×3 poems is available
now at amazon.com/dp/B07VDH6XG5. On Twitter @storiesyoumight.
