by Raquel Milosavljevic

the spiders always seem to come

at the first sigh,

the first mooning,

when the water pipes

rumble like a stomach

and I am finally still. they crawl

into my room

like spilled marbles, I see

them rolling onto the floor

out of the corner of my eye.

they don’t shy from teeth

or wince at voices, they

are not owls nor salamanders, they

are a hundred years old,

they are always

moving towards me,

never around me, only

finding me

like I am a weight

in the centre of the room.

Raquel Milosavljevic is an emerging writer from Vancouver, BC Canada who recently graduated from Simon Fraser University. By day, she is an avid reader who writes poetry and short stories. Her work has been published in several Canadian anthologies and also individually online at By night, she is a professional tarot card reader who is heavily involved in the spiritual community.