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Poetry: Contract by Kelly Hanwright


I come to you open armed and open eyed,
Feet planted on firm warm stone,
My mask is peeled from my face and cast behind me,
its chrome and hollow sockets glinting in the yellow day.
I have no cape; no magic powers.
I am ready to begin.

For you, I am stripped naked and flogged
by the tireless whip of ink streaming from my pen
while molten tears hot as the stuff
from the smith’s furnace scar my cheeks
and trace pour-patterns in my desk.

Dinner is served:
my heart seared rare just the way you like,
with a glass of blood extracted drop for drop
from my veins by the sticky probe of anguish
pricking like a phlebotomist’s needle.

I break out my teeth and lay them on the table;
lift them and examine for rises and depressions.
I flay the skin of my chest
and expose my skeleton’s smooth white bones,
hollow and fragile as china.

Place your hand on my clavicle.
Run it down my ribs if you wish,
I do not charge admission,
but I do request
input.

Give me your eyes and your ears.
Pluck them out, slip them off,
Drop them in; watch my skin
regenerate, growing over to smooth my gaping innards.
I will take your hand,

And stand.
1 comment on "Poetry: Contract by Kelly Hanwright"
  1. Such a powerful piece. The visuals are stunning! Great job, Kelly! :)

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