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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:

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. 

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