The black spiders carcass
is stuck in the corner
made by the joining
of the wall and the ceiling.
Some how it sticks there
in the luxury of our
walk-in-shower,
its mausoleum,
made of gray tile
embossed by a taupe and transparent,
rectangular crystal row
across the center of the shower wall.

It is a beautiful shower
with its built in niche,
holding shampoo, body wash,
a Dove bar and my razor.

It is one of the many highlights,
meticulous and flawless,
of our just finished home.
We’ve worked long for its completion
and have recently retired there.

The spider….

Yes.

The spider reminds me
of itself,
whenever I shower.

My wife is also bothered by it,
she says.
She says she will brush it away
when she gets a moment.
I offer to do the job,
but she says,
“No. I’ll do it.”

The spiders carcass
and I
are still waiting.
Both,
with equal patience.