"come into my parlour,"
said the spider to the other spider,
"you're no real spider you're a fly.
your wings a blur of gossamer
your body black and shining
and a million tiny crystals in your eye."
"hey, count the legs," replied the spider,
"feel the threads i spin you
i'm arachnid as arachnid i can be
now let us mesh our webs together
from the ceiling to the leather
sofa over there just you and me."
"one web is enough," said spider One,
"no two are better
only One can be the center of it all."
"i know," said spider Two
and slowly finished biting through
the threads that held old spider One upon the wall
"now, come into my parlour," said the other spider
"how" said spider
"i am just a spider not a fly.
i'll be climbing walls forever
and i even don't know whether
i'll be stuck down here until i die."
"oh no," cried spider Two,
"please come back here now i am lonely
climb this thread that i have lowered in your way."
"lonely?" said the spider.
"you're a spider.
we are lonely.
i don't trust your thread to hold me anyway."
so the spider scuttled
to the opposite far corner
where a new and shining web was soon his own
now i don't know whether
those two spiders were too clever
but i do know that each one just died alone.
Little Black Book by Wayne Myers