Abandoned Tunnel Dare – All Hallows Eve
by Ankh Spice
At the dare’s threshold, our feet hook the earth - refuse
to move. I forget light. Climbing here, bonfires dimmed
to fireflies - the erratic runway of the beach
swims giddy-far below, and friendly flame
has long since left my bones. No triumph dance
for us now – all bucking urge plucked out
by what is real. Wet fern fingers drip
to change an ear’s shape forever.
Afterwards, we will always hear the waxing dark.
What sort of person decided fear
is a game, a human challenge to the longest night -
none are warriors here, the old black story-heart
of this place knows us
as a lit candle knows its moths.
The young fly blind – with their masks and their mumming
and their tender, thrill-shrilling hearts – ah, gifts.
Offer your walking-in as a sacrifice. Litany yourself, repeat -
may the crunch of footed things be leaves, be gravel
may that tang on my panting tongue be watered rust
may the sunrise find us bigger than we began -
the only sugar we will beg from here
the sweet stun of light, more and more
minutes palmed into our lucky, lengthening days.
Ankh Spice is a sea-obsessed poet from Aotearoa (New Zealand), whose work has been published in a fair number of international publications, most listed here: https://linktr.ee/SeaGoatScreamsPoetry
He believes that narrative (and kindness) can change the world, and you can find him doing his best to prove that @SeaGoatScreams on Twitter, or @AnkhSpiceSeaGoatScreamsPoetry on Facebook.