“Jackal Stripes”
This punishing hand, to know you
to know about your birthdays
your romantic candles
the ships that lead us
to spy islands, clean jackals
lifts from your suitcase the cold gold
clothes, on ships adrift
then circling the chipped waves
blinding portraits, a myth
of purple-clouded
heinous sea monsters,
those spooky celebrations
where you run into your younger self
and bow for all his warmth and calm
he could lend you.
nicholauspatnaude 
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