Eight yellow and red eyes penetrate my soul,

gouging a hole of fear that pumps my heart into a state of panic.

I feel the tippity-tapping of eight itty-bitty, furry legs

crawling in my mouth,

expelling all the saliva until I’m as parched as though

I haven’t had water in days.

The spider is smaller than my finger,

but, in my mind, it is bigger than a dinner plate.

Suddenly, I am there, in my dream,

hovering over a clear pool

deeper than an abyss and

pulling me down, down, down to the spider.

I wake up, but there stands the spider, wide as night,

replacing my pillow.