I carried a bullet in my neck,
pineapple plantation on my back.
I carried the grief of another human,
spine protected only by shell.
I carried a thousand flaming orange tides,
shoulders burned only sometimes.
My brother told me once he stopped
his car to save a turtle.
My brother ran to pick up the shelled giant,
but another car broke him, beat him to it.
My brother cried in the street,
turtle blood, shell, and that spine.