what stars are made of

To Richard Siken, The day you fall sick, I find myself on Twitter, following an account called ‘richard siken bot’ that tweets lines from your poetry every hour. It's not enough, but it's all I have. Because I don't know if you're ever going to write again. I find ‘Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out’ on the internet out of nowhere when I'm 15, and it makes me feel everything I haven't felt in months. I print it out, memorizing every word and my mind goes to a different place every single time I read it. It's my little secret, a poem I refuse to share with anyone unless I trust them completely. At 17, the poem is taped to my bunk bed, a reminder that words can create something so beautiful. At 18, I still read it every time I need to feel something. Your books arrive one afternoon, and the thrill I feel every time I look at them is unprecedented. I devour them in the next two days, and don't understand a word you mean to say. It only