Lurking in the dim darkness
The curtain of dusk’s open crevice
The thicket of creeping vines
The trap of a lady spider
The white fingers of a dead woman
A place overflowing with writhing
You are being watched
At all(ways) hours
As you are about to be seized,
You are being observed
The living body is but a shadow
What can be seen
Is only a fleeting illusion
The beckoning temptation
And the muffled laughter
Are always by your side,
Like a shadow,
Quietly creeping closer