The artful spider spins its web. Shimmering threads unseen draw flies to her open mouth. Time passes and the shine fades. Curled in a nook, the spider sees a fly approaching. “You needed no web to ensnare us. We come willing to your embrace. We love you.”
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Gregory Marks
@thewastedworld
PhD student writing on Thomas Pynchon and the Posthuman Gothic. Literary & critical theory, aesthetics, ecology. All views are my own, etc. 
Australia
Joined December 2017
