Some Unused Web

just a pallid sway
pinned above my eyes
a few feet away from sleep.
The spider, freed
from itself, but what remains
trembles in design, a web
ungathered, more akin
to a limpened fist.
There is no air here,
no gust, yet it moves,
moving within
sight, moving,
swaying

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Written for Reena’s Exploration Challenge #139