Hang on, stitching together your page...
This explains that cathnid in my hair!
Drained of silk, she couldn’t weave the sac
she would use to hold it on her back.
Needing to preserve her egg uncracked
trusted it into my care.
Lifting up this gift into my lap
reverent with hesitation
do I tremble?
Or is that vibration
or my imagination?
From within a subtle tap?