ANKH SPICE
Mourning six things before breakfast
Grief hitches
her cart—we have woken again
in the yoke. What was not a dream
shuddering the shoulders, chest. Each knot
something that slips. Whose hands are not chafed
by this world, whose skin untorn. I no longer trust
anyone who gets through the night
eyes closed, burden intact, unscarred
goods. I place my ripped palms
against yours. What stings
is living. We have made fists
since we were born, each time the reflex
to close, a second too late to catch
what we were told should not be saved.
The hands know the truth. Future
and the void. Pebbles. There’s the edge.
Ankh Spice is a queer poet from Aotearoa New Zealand, author of The Water Engine (Femme Salvé Books, 2021). His poetry is eight times nominated for Pushcart Prize/Best of the Net. He’s a poetry contributing editor at Barren Magazine and co-edits at IceFloe Press.
Website: www.ankhspice-seagoatscreamspoetry.com, Twitter: @SeaGoatScreamsPoetry, Facebook: @AnkhSpiceSeaGoatScreamsPoetry.