been thinking...
Scheherazade by Richard Siken 
Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm clothes again. How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running until they forget that they are horses. 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. Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means we’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.

Scheherazade by Richard Siken

Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake
and dress them in warm clothes again.
How it was late, and no one could sleep, the horses running
until they forget that they are horses.
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.
Look at the light through the windowpane. That means it’s noon, that means
we’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.

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  5. ironminds reblogged this from riskinginvitation and added:
    I love Siken so much.
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  9. balletbabies reblogged this from cinnamonpeeler and added:
    Sweet mercy, here it all is on the page, with the words, sweet ode.
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  12. hazal reblogged this from suspensionprayers and added:
    Scheherazade by Richard Siken Tell me about the dream where we pull the bodies out of the lake and dress them in warm...
  13. petitchou said: I have the last three lines tattooed on my back. No joke!
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