“All night I stretched my arms across
him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing
with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe.
Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be
like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed
to pieces.”
It’s not like a tree where the roots have to end somewhere.
- Richard Siken
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Richard Siken
“All night I stretched my arms across
him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing
with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe.
Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be
like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed
to pieces.”
“here is a place for it to happen. a place where i can love you.”
this is what happens when people give me my xrays
artist found via supersonicelectronic.com
but monsters are always hungry, darling
for my wall.
The question for this issue was Do you have a human soul and can you prove it? And, of course, there was no definitive answer. A robot can do the math. A robot can spit out an answer. People, they make it up as they go along. They find connections between things where there aren’t any. They get moody, they refuse things, they take it deep inside themselves and fold it into something unrecognizable and then they set it down on the table.
Richard Siken, “The Long and Short of It” (via bending-sickle)
Text from “Snow And Dirty Rain” by Richard Siken.
