Detail of the Woods by Richard Siken

I looked at all the trees and didn’t know what to do.


A box made out of leaves.

What else was in the woods? A heart, closing. Nevertheless.


Everyone needs a place. It shouldn’t be inside of someone else.

I kept my mind on the moon. Cold moon, long nights moon.


From the landscape: a sense of scale.

From the dead: a sense of scale.


I turned my back on the story. A sense of superiority.

Everything casts a shadow.


Your body told me in a dream it’s never been afraid of anything.

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