One day a sick pauper
undid the knots
that tied his tattered coat together.

Down fell the murk
free came the stench
from fresh red wounds
that secretly loved their colour.

He collected his dirt in a bowl
and took it to the sea
and spoke with the dancing waves.

“This my last give and take.
Year after year
the greedy holes in my coat
ask for more to fill their hunger.
It’s empty pockets openly refuse
to store away my fear.
What use is such a cover?
Slaughter me naked instead!”

A glistening smile from the sea
delivered him a message
in a sun-lit bottle.

“Tired little pauper,
In exchange for your imaginary coat
I trade with you a secret.
I swim inside you and
your wish is my command.”