Richard Siken

“Actually, you said Love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’s terrifying. No one will ever want to sleep with you.”

“For a while I thought I was the dragon.I guess I can tell you that now. And, for a while, I thought I was the princess,cotton candy pink, sitting there in my room, in the tower of the castle, young and beautiful and in love and waiting for you withconfidence but the princess looks into her mirror and only sees the princess,while I’m out here, slogging through the mud, breathing fire, and getting stabbed to death. Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal. You still get to be the hero.You get magic gloves! A fish that talks! You get eyes like flashlights!”

“He was pointing at the moon, but I was looking at his hand.”

“It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere, it’s more like a song on a policeman’s radio, how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was another apple to slice into pieces.”

“The entire history of human desire takes about seventy minutes to tell. Unfortunately, we don’t have that kind of time.”

“And the gentleness that comes,not from the absence of violence, but despitethe abundance of it.”

“how we rolled up the carpet so we could dance, and the days were bright red, and every time we kissed there was anotherappleto slice into pieces.Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it's noon,that meanswe're inconsolable.Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us.These our bodies, possessed by light.Tell me we'll never get used to it.”

“Everyone needs a place. It shouldn't be inside of someone else.”

“You're waiting because you thought it would follow, you thought there would be some logic, perhaps, something to pull it all together but here we are in the weeds again, here we are in the bowels of the thing: your world doesn't make sense.”

“I never liked that ending either. More love streaming out the wrong way, and I don't want to be the kind that says the wrong way. But it doesn't work, these erasures, this constant refolding of the pleats. There were some nice parts, sure, all lemondrop and mellonball, laughing in silk pajamas and the grain of sugar on the toast, love love or whatever, take a number. I'm sorry it's such a lousy story.”

“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.”

“You wanted happiness, I can’t blame you for that, and maybe a mouth sounds idiotic when it blathers on about joy but tell me you love this, tell me you’re not miserable.”

“You are playing cards with three Jeffs. One is your father, one is yourbrother, and the other is your current boyfriend. All of them have seenyou naked and heard you talking in your sleep. Your boyfriend Jeff getsup to answer the phone. To them he is a mirror, but to you he is a room.”

“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.”

“I’m not suggesting the world is good, that life is easy, or that any of us are entitled to better. But please, isn’t this the kind of thing you talk about in somber tones, in the afternoon, with some degree of hope and maybe even a handful of strategies?”

“Vanity, in a fairy tale, will make you evil. Vanity in the real world will drive you nuts. Vanity makes you say things like “I deserved a better life than this.”

“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.”

“Imagine that the world is made out of love. Now imagine that it isn’t. Imagine a story where everything goes wrong, where everyone has their back against the wall, where everyone is in pain and acting selfishly because if they don’t, they’ll die. Imagine a story, not of good against evil, but of need against need against need, where everyone is at cross-purposes and everyone is to blame.”

“The narrator blames the birds. And you want to blame the birds as well. I blamed the birds for a long time. But in this story everyone is hungry, even the birds. And at this point in the story so many things have gone wrong, so many bad decisions made, that it’s a wonder anyone would want to continue reading.”

“This is my favorite part. It starts and ends here. The pebbles shine, the plan worked, Hansel Triumphant. Lesson number one: be sneaky and have a plan. But the stupid boy goes back, makes the rest of the story postscript and aftermath. He shouldn’t have gone back. And this is the second lesson I took from the story: when someone is trying to ditch you, kill you, never go back.”

“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.”

“A kid under a tablecloth insists he’s a ghost. A tableunderneath a tablecloth is, I guess, like the rest of us,only pretending to be invisible.”

“I’m saying your name in the grocery store, I’m saying your name on the bridge at dawn. Your name like an animal covered with frost, your name like a music that’s been transposed, a suit of fur, a coat of mud, a kick in the pants, a lungful of glass, the sails in wind and the slap of waves on the hull...”

“A man walks into a bar and says: Take my wife–please. So you do. You take her out into the rain and you fall in love with her and she leaves you and you’re desolate.You’re on your back in your undershirt, a broken man on an ugly bedspread, staring at the water stains on the ceiling. And you can hear the man in the apartment above you taking off his shoes.You hear the first boot hit the floor and you’re looking up, you’re waiting because you thought it would follow, you thought there would be some logic, perhaps, something to pull it all together but here we are in the weeds again, here we arein the bowels of the thing: your world doesn’t make sense. And then the second boot falls. And then a third, a fourth, a fifth. A man walks into a bar and says: Take my wife–please. But you take him instead.You take him home, and you make him a cheese sandwich, and you try to get his shoes off, but he kicks you and he keeps kicking you. You swallow a bottle of sleeping pills but they don’t work. Boots continue to fall to the floor in the apartment above you.You go to work the next day pretending nothing happened. Your co-workers ask if everything’s okay and you tell them you’re just tired. And you’re trying to smile. And they’re trying to smile.A man walks into a bar, you this time, and says: Make it a double. A man walks into a bar, you this time, and says: Walk a mile in my shoes.A man walks into a convenience store, still you, saying: I only wanted something simple, something generic… But the clerk tells you to buy something or get out.A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river but then he’s still leftwith the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away but then he’s still left with his hands.”

“There’s smashed glass glittering everywhere like stars. It’s a Western,Henry. It’s a downright shoot-em-up. We’ve made a graveyardout of the bone white afternoon.It’s another wrong-man-dies scenario, and we keep doing it Henry,keep saying until we get it right … but we always win and we never quit.See, we’ve won again,here we are at the place where I get to beg for it, where I get to say Please,for just one night, will you lie down next to me, we can leave our clothes on,we can stay all buttoned up …But we both know how it goes—I say I want you inside me and you holdmy head underwater. I say I want you inside me and you split me openwith a knife.”

“The way you slam your body into mine reminds me I’m alive, but monsters are always hungry, darling, and they’re only a few steps behind you, finding the flaw, the poor weld, the place where we weren’t stitched up quite right, the place they could almost slip right into through if the skin wasn’t trying to keep them out, to keep them here, on the other side of the theater where the curtain keeps rising. I crawled out the window and ran into the woods. I had to make up all the words myself. The way they taste, the way they sound in the air. I passed through the narrow gate, stumbled in, stumbled around for a while, and stumbled back out. I made this place for you. A place for to love me. If this isn’t a kingdom then I don’t know what is.”

“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.”

“Tell me we're dead and I'll love you even more.”

“The light is no mystery, the mystery is that there is something to keep the light from passing through.”

“I wanted to hurt youbut the victory is that I could not stomach it. We haveswallowed him up, they said. It’s beautiful. It really is.I had a dream about you. We were in the gold roomwhere everyone finally gets what they want.You said Tell me about your books, your visions madeof flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This isthe Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take youthere. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugarcube… We were in the gold room where everyonefinally gets what they want, so I said What do youwant, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I amleaving you clues. I am singing now while Romeburns. 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.”

“We pull our boots on with both handsbut we can't punch ourselves awake and all I can do is stand on the curb and say Sorryabout 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.”

“He could build a city. Has a certain capacity. There’s a niche in his chestwhere a heart would fit perfectlyand he thinks if he could just maneuver one into place –well then, game over.”

“Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal. You still get to be the hero.”

“I had a dream about you. We were in the gold roomwhere everyone finally gets what they want.You said Tell me about your books, your visions madeof flesh and light and I said This is the Moon. This isthe Sun. Let me name the stars for you. Let me take youthere. The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugarcube…We were in the gold room where everyonefinally gets what they want, so I said What do youwant, sweetheart? and you said Kiss me. Here I amleaving you clues. I am singing now while Romeburns. 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.”

“This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard, and make a wish.”

“Hello, darling. Sorry about that. Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry we lived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwell and how I ruined everything by saying it out loud. Especially that, but I should have known. 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.”

“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 rushthrough me and it never made any sense, anything.”

“We still groped for each other on the backstairs or in parked cars                                                                                                                                                      as the road around usgrew glossy with ice and our breath softened the view through the glass                    already laced with frost,but more frequently I was finding myself sleepless, and he was running out of                                                                                                                                                                          lullabies. But damn if there isn’t anything sexier                                                            than a slender boy with a handgun,                                                                                                                                  a fast car, a bottle of pills.”

“I sleep. I dream. I make up things that I would never say. I say them very quietly.”

“Every morning the maple leaves.Every morning another chapter where the hero shiftsfrom one foot to the other. Every morning the same bigand little words all spelling out desire, all spelling outYou will be alone always and then you will die.So maybe I wanted to give you something more than a catalogof non-definitive acts,something other than the desperation.Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party.Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I came to your partyand seduced youand left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.You want a better story. Who wouldn’t?A forest, then. Beautiful trees. And a lady singing.Love on the water, love underwater, love, love and so on.What a sweet lady. Sing lady, sing! Of course, she wakes the dragon.Love always wakes the dragon and suddenlyflames everywhere.I can tell already you think I’m the dragon,that would be so like me, but I’m not. I’m not the dragon.I’m not the princess either.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 swallowglass, but that comes later.Let me do it right for once,for the record, let me make a thing of cream and stars that becomes,you know the story, simply heaven.Inside your head you hear a phone ringingand when you open your eyesonly a clearing with deer in it. Hello deer.Inside your head the sound of glass,a car crash sound as the trucks roll over and explode in slow motion.Hello darling, sorry about that.Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry welived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwelland how I ruined everything by saying it out loud.Especially that, but I should have known.Inside your head you heara phone ringing, and when you open your eyes you’re washing upin a stranger’s bathroom,standing by the window in a yellow towel, only twenty minutes awayfrom the dirtiest thing you know.All the rooms of the castle except this one, says someone, and suddenlydarkness,suddenly only darkness.In the living room, in the broken yard,in the back of the car as the lights go by. In the airportbathroom’s gurgle and flush, bathed in a pharmacy ofunnatural light,my hands looking weird, my face weird, my feet too far away.I arrived in the city and you met me at the station,smiling in a waythat made me frightened. Down the alley, around the arcade,up the stairs of the buildingto the little room with the broken faucets, your drawings, all your things,I looked out the window and saidThis doesn’t look that much different from home,because it didn’t,but then I noticed the black sky and all those lights.We were inside the train car when I started to cry. You were crying too,smiling and crying in a way that made meeven more hysterical. You said I could have anything I wanted, but Ijust couldn’t say it out loud.Actually, you said Love, for you,is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’sterrifying. No onewill ever want to sleep with you.Okay, if you’re so great, you do it—here’s the pencil, make it work …If the window is on your right, you are in your own bed. If the windowis over your heart, and it is painted shut, then we are breathingriver water.Dear Forgiveness, you know that recentlywe have had our difficulties and there are many thingsI want to ask you.I tried that one time, high school, second lunch, and then again,years later, in the chlorinated pool.I am still talking to you about help. I still do not havethese luxuries.I have told you where I’m coming from, so put it together.I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes.Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you.Quit milling around the yard and come inside.”

“We laugh & it pits the world against us.”

“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.”

“Is that too much to expect? That I would name the starsfor you? That I would take you there? The splashof my tongue melting you like a sugar cube?”

“We have not touched the stars,nor are we forgiven, which brings us backto the hero’s shoulders and the gentleness that comes,not from the absence of violence, but despitethe abundance of it.”

“Moonlight making crosseson your body, and me putting my mouth on every one.”

“You’re falling now. You’re swimming. This is not          harmless. You are not                    breathing.”

“All night I streched my arms acrosshim, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singingwith all my skin and bone ''Please keep him safe.Let him lay his head on my chest and we will belike sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashedto pieces.'' Makes a cathedral, him pressing againstme, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believehis mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars.”

“A man takes his sadness down to the river and throws it in the river                    but then he’s still leftwith the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away                                                                        but then he’s still left with his hands.”

“Wearing your clothes or standing in the shower for over an hour, pretending that this skin is your skin, these hands your hands, these shins, these soapy flanks”

“If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.”