t: 10.21.01

He has clinging spiders for hands and they are building slender webs on my limbs and torso. I'm annoyed, they're messy and they weave us together -- everyone sees them and I feel like an imprisoned fly, though I know I'm not. I'd like to scream at him, "No. Not ok. Not fine to just tangle me up in sticky webs of claimed territory. If you weren't insecure you wouldn't need to throw your safety blanket of fibrous affection over me like a net."