Richard Siken (2015), Turpentine


It is too heavy, says the canvas. You lack restraint.
I was sleeping in whiteness, drifts of snow,
and you woke me and told me your dream, my blank
face upturned, listening. You came to me while we
were sleeping, we were both sleeping, and you asked me
to hold this for you. I am holding this for you.

Richard Siken (2015)