Tuesday, November 14, 2006

Dwelling

He remained, unwaveringly indolent,
fixed in familiarity.

Along the bannister crawled his arachnid friend;
he called him Peter.

Peter emerged every day, every night,
reliable like a rock.

One afternoon, betrayal tore into his skin,
and released its venom;
he collapsed, asking Peter why.

"It's my nature; its our fate," Peter replied.
"Betrayal completes loyalty, my friend."

He smiled at the stained ceiling,
awaited eternity,
delayed indefinitely.