Widow Maker

Dressed in black leather,

red hourglass coat,

interlaced crystal,

silk tiara web,

latest in fashion.

Squeezing through cracks

to hide from her prey,

legs tucked in,

until the stars proclaim

now is the time.

Vicious jaws

of a ravenous beast

under blood red moon.

In the stillness of chimes,

suspended in hollow

of my consciousness,

I see the shabby threads

of her fragile web.

Can’t resist her juice

as she beckons me

to crocheted hammock,

nestled in broken snips

of the full moon.

Sting of her promise

heralds the battle

is lost for me,

as I perish,

poisoned

in my dreams.