No Spider

I hadn’t even felt its legs,
It crawled with care, admiring the platter,
A sharp, stinging pierced through my hand,
And there it was, gnawing on my skin,
Burrowing deep into a crimson stream.
I swept a hand across, to brush it away,
But when I looked again, there was no blood.
There was no mark. There was no spider.
There was just bare, unharmed skin.


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