Reunion

I pull from tangled 

island ventricles

pale claws nearly dust

to stash in my breast pocket.

Clittering china, I picture

a family of crab ghosts converging

over my pulse, ready to tuck

into their first bloody meal after death; 

eye stalks sway in synchrony 

raised in prayer to Sea, or

perhaps his brother, Sky.

Spectres Crustacea 

mingling in my pocket,

I scoop out my heart

and permit you to feast.

 

Photo credit: Beth Tockey Williams

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