Hand Seller - takahē

I watch the road. I live in a little copse of trees and I keep a fire waiting for strangers. I am a transmutating thing—I can form into fog or a pack of rats. I like best to transform into an owl, the most vicious owl, and I tap tap tap on people’s windows and give them the creeps. I only want to get inside their beds, and then their brains. I lie beside them and step inside their dreams. I walk around in their dreams. This is very rejuvenating for me. I collect stories and I sell hands—can I offer you the hands of a poet? My own hands are not my own hands. I traded them with a lover a long time ago, so I could have part of her. I wonder where they have gone to now. I was a great artist, or at least, very talented. I drew quick and well. I swapped with her because I was afraid to go without her—besides, she had more ambition. I can trade hands with you. I have strangler’s hands, pianist hands, builder’s hands, the hands of cobblers. Take the cobbler’s hands, I recommend them. It’s a dying practice. I have the hands of an old old woman who knew how to cut velvet—not burn it or print it, cut velvet. I have weaver’s hands, dyer’s hands, the hands of addicts too, who wanted to quit, wanted something new to work with. Yes, I have taken the hands of the dying. We can’t have good hands going to waste.

Tara Leckie is based in Te Whanganui-a-Tara. She wants somebody to please take her fishing! You can find her at https://linktr.ee/taraleckie or as @nonstopcricket on Instagram.