the Tarantula spins her inside her womb and cuddles her children to sleep. she awaits her children that hold many silk days ahead of her smallest child the return before i was gone. she stays close to her children and one never knows if you are stepping on a baby's tarantula, the mother of her own child watching close the day she was stepped on. i place your child that was watched her before into a cup and pour her out in the desert so that she would remember Me today. I'm sorry baby i didn't know you were there.
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