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
chill chamber-music
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.
About Ankh
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.