“somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near”
More from E. E. Cummings
“along the brittle treacherous bright streets of memory comes my heart,singing like an…”
“and what I want to know is how do you like your blue-eyed boy”
“i charge laughing. Into the hair-thin tints of yellow dawn, into the women-coloured…”
“(and from my thighs which shrug and pant a murdering rain leapingly reaches the upward…”