Their faces I thought were knives.
The way they pointed them at me.
And waited.
A hunter is someone who listens.
So hard to his prey it pulls the weapon.
Out of his hand and impales.
Itself.
Anne Carson, “Town of the Sound of a Twig Breaking” from The Life of Towns (via unknowmenclature)
Sunday / 3 years ago / 5,562 notes
via geminiscene / source unknowmenclature
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