All it took was
One grown-up touch
Too close to places she was
Too young to name.

Now all hands move
Like searching spiders on the
Table of her little
Self.

Skin constantly goosebumped.
Eyes focused on the
Potential harmfulness
Within and between all things
That move with
Predatory silence.

She walks as if under
Water, like a weblocked
Fly; afraid to make ripples
And draw

Adult
Arachnid
Attention.