Always a Widow

Here squats a Black Widow spider, who sups a swig of sweet cider. He spies her there, scoots close to share and sips the hot brew beside 'er. She darts with aim to devour, her size gives her lethal power. She fakes a hug, then snags him snug; true bliss defines his last hour. For some who deceive are gifted to mask when power is shifted. The prey's surprise— he's soon incised— his parts all broken and sifted.