HUMID

Delicate larvae

Rappelling up a silver thread

Backfilling

Swaying in the wind

Winny war

Swaying ever upwards

Greased silver skid

Delicate larvae

Utching ever closer

Und higher

No audience

On a tightrope of silk

Not pretty at all

But has a chance to be something

In her old age

If she can make it

Delicate larvae

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