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jack-rechsteiner
jack-rechsteiner
I'll wring what I can out of this life like the hunters hands around the neck of a bird plucked out of the sky. Pitied enough to end it's suffering faster but not enough that it might fly again. The hunters need is something too great for this. And so I am affected with a terrible ache for living, a tremendous hunger with no light hollow bones that I am not sure I am strong enough to bare. Does the hunter always hunger alone?
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Sep 26, 2015
Sep 26, 2015 at 8:16 PM UTC
A Lot Like Birds