{"id":66647,"date":"2025-05-09T00:01:18","date_gmt":"2025-05-09T00:01:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/?p=66647"},"modified":"2025-05-09T23:03:10","modified_gmt":"2025-05-09T23:03:10","slug":"black-spider-purple-grace-by-kris-statler","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.everywritersresource.com\/poemeveryday\/black-spider-purple-grace-by-kris-statler\/","title":{"rendered":"Black Spider, Purple Grace by Kris Statler"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"Black<\/h2>\n

Black Spider, Purple Grace<\/h2>\n

by Kris Statler<\/p>\n

Arms and legs and shoulders.<\/p>\n

Arms and legs and shoulders.
\nI kiss what is presented to me.
\nMy kiss is black, a spider,
\ntear drops clinging to the web,
\ncursing the horse I rode in on.<\/p>\n

The spider\u2019s mane spreads on the pillow,
\nall eight arms waving,
\nsticky with silky threads, sprawling.
\nWho knows how many webs?
\nWe weave a worn, rumpled road
\nright up to the darkness.<\/p>\n

A mouth is presented,
\nand I slap a spider right on there.
\nIt passes from mouth to mouth
\nto dirty, goddamn mouth,
\nuntil it returns,
\ncrawling back into the web.<\/p>\n

And then I\u2019m back in my car,
\nwondering what the hell just happened.<\/p>\n

I was a child, then a mother,
\nthen the ground you walk on.
\nI was a girl, then a boy,
\nthen a girl again.
\nBalancing on a single strand,
\none foot in front of the other.
\nIn heels!<\/p>\n

It\u2019s the edge of the world
\nas we know it.
\nSo, I drive straight over the edge,
\ncoloring outside the lines again.
\nSo messy.
\nSo messy am I,
\nwith my arms and legs and shoulders.
\nWith his arms and her legs over their shoulders.<\/p>\n

And the spiders.
\nThe steamy, leggy arachnids,
\nlarge enough now
\nto make me remember
\nwhat I was worrying about the moment before.<\/p>\n

That light can only press the dark.
\nFull body contact, inch by glorious inch,
\ncan only keep her down just so long.<\/p>\n

Remember the stretcher from grace?
\nWe have drawn one in:
\nHarold\u2019s purple crayon from grace.<\/p>\n

Upright again,
\nI spread the spider-colored web
\nto cover, comfort, capture,
\nevery word,
\nevery thought,
\nevery goddamn glimmer in the eye,
\nevery long-legged stroll
\ninto and out of my life.<\/p>\n

Which begs the question,
\nwho IS this begging here?
\nUp on their haunches, tongue lolling,
\neight eyes to match the eight arms,
\nreaching out to push my buttons.<\/p>\n

Turn me on,
\nturn me off,
\nflip the switch,
\nswitch my skin until it stings.<\/p>\n

That damn black spider
\nsinks into my fangs,
\nand I poison it with purple grace,
\nhoping it will remember me
\nwhen I need it.<\/p>\n

Kris Statler currently writes from her semi off-grid tiny home on the island of Maui, where she has lived for over 35 years. She is the author of the Birth on Maui series and serves as a consultant to Pacific Birth Collective, a nonprofit she co-founded. Her work spans a lifetime of lived observation: through birth, motherhood, divorce, grief, love, and the cultural and historical complexity of Hawai\u2018i. She is currently crafting a poetic memoir that blends personal narrative and verse into a story of transformation.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Kris Statler currently writes from her semi off-grid tiny home on the island of Maui, where she has lived for over 35 years.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":66648,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_uf_show_specific_survey":0,"_uf_disable_surveys":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[53],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-66647","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-poem"],"aioseo_notices":[],"aioseo_head":"\n\t\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t\n\t\t