Being a rather inquisitive soul
I asked her,

I said, ‘go on tell me how do you do it?’
‘Why should I tell you?’ She asked in a huff,
‘it’s people like you who ruin a days work,
without even a second thought.’

Unperturbed, I cushioned myself
and decided to watch her work.

‘My dear, please tell me how you do it?
Majestic is your work, never will I be able to compete,
please tell…’

She had ink-jet black beady eyes,
she used them to see the colour of my soul.

‘Once I tell you, go, and never return,
for you are interrupting my work.’

‘First I take the liquid silk,
from where it is readily stored,
I excrete it through spinnerets.
which turns liquid into silk-cord.

Once the silk has been started,
I cast it to the breeze,
it stick to leaves and trees and stuff,
not sticky, yet sticks with ease.

Once I have my tightrope stuck,
I weave more silk for my dinner.
I have made my own hunting ground,
then, I rest and wait to catch my dinner.’

‘The problem is, you guys,
like to walk through our hunting grounds,
you do a victory dance when you are done,
which has always intrigued me because I sense
your ambling fear, and yet,
you still dance away from my
hunting ground ruined.’

‘We all have to eat you know?’ She said.
‘It’s just the natural way of things.’

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