When you walk by the bay
at the witching hour, you

don’t feel all the specters
and walking along coquina sea wall–

making shadow giants on the wall of
the Castillo fort, acidic remains are invisible

there were conquistadors here, once
Matanzas where blood flowed as freely

as the intracoastal. But all that matters now
are tiny blood cells reaching through the apples

under your eyes and the way the stars glint
over the murdered and shelled explorers.


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