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Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you? That I would take you there? The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube?

Richard Siken

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Richard Siken
Age: 57
Born: 1967
Born: February 15
Poet
New York City
New York
Stars
Cube
Names
Splash
Take
Cubes
Much
Melting
Would
Sugar
Like
Tongue
Expect
Name

More quotes by Richard Siken

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Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again.
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Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.
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Moonlight making crosses on your body, and me putting my mouth on every one.
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I woke up in the morning and I didn’t want anything, didn’t do anything, couldn’t do it anyway, just lay there listening to the blood rush through me and it never made any sense, anything.
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Here I am leaving you clues. I am singing now while Rome burns. We are all just trying to be holy. My applejack, my silent night, just mash your lips against me. We are all going forward. None of us are going back.
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Oh, the things we invent when we are scared and want to be rescued.
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Sorry about the blood in your mouth. I wish it was mine. I couldn't get the boy to kill me, but I wore his jacket for the longest time.
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Do we simply stare at what is horrible and forgive it?
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He was pointing at the moon, but I was looking at his hand.
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If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.
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You are playing cards with three Jeffs. One is your father, one is your brother, and the other is your current boyfriend. All of them have seen you naked and heard you talking in your sleep. Your boyfriend Jeff gets up to answer the phone. To them he is a mirror, but to you he is a room.
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Here I am in a rabbit run, here I am in a valley of pine, waiting for you to find me. I could pretend I’m speaking to everyone—assume a middle distance and transcend myself—but I’m taking to you and you know it.
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You’re falling now. You’re swimming. This is not           harmless. You are not                     breathing.
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The light is no mystery, the mystery is that there is something to keep the light from passing through.
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Who am I? I'm just a writer. I write things down. I walk through your dreams and invent the future. Sure, I sink the boat of love, but that comes later. And yes, I swallow glass, but that comes later.
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You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I say or love me back.
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The way you slam your body into mine reminds me I’m alive, but monsters are always hungry, darling.
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I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you've taken something out of me and I have to search my body for scars.
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I wouldn’t kill your pony. I’d like to believe it, anyway. I’d like to believe I wouldn’t drag you out in to the woods and leave you there, either. So far, it hasn’t come up.
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Fairy tales have rules. You are a princess or you aren’t. You are pure at heart or you aren’t. If you are pure at heart, or lucky, you might catch a break.
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