from poland with love

I have gone out, a possessed witch,
haunting the black air, braver at night;
dreaming evil, I have done my hitch
over the plain houses, light by light:
lonely thing, twelve-fingered, out of mind.
A woman like that is not a woman, quite.
I have been her kind.

—Anne Sexton, ‘Her Kind’ (via desanguinea)

(Source: bostonpoetryslam, via karrova)