On the brightest day of summer
his face remains in shadow
he seems to grow ever taller
the closer you draw near him
when he beckons with a finger
then you helplessly follow
although your fingers grow colder
you fear how much you fear him
like ropes that climb into darkness
his hair is long and knotted
one hand is bleached by the sunlight
as it reaches out for you
his clothes smell faintly of sulphur
and something old and rotted
as your hand comes up to meet his
it is cast in sunlight too
His breath sounds like something broken
a tractor dragging a chain
when your hands meet in the sunbeam
you can almost hear him smile
you’re silent but there is screaming
in the bottom of your brain
your heart rattles like a ratchet
in your mouth, the taste of bile
Your blood sings ‘you must resist him’
as the light dims behind you
but your feet carry you forward
as if they belonged to him
on the brightest day of summer
the dark days somehow find you
still your feet carry you forward
your blood sings a song of him.
Tags: Poetry
