E. E. Cummings

God Gloats Upon Her Stunning Flesh

god gloats upon Her stunning flesh. Upon the rechings of Her green body among unseen things, things obscene (Whose fingers young the caving ages curiously con) —but the lunge of Her hunger softly flung over the gasping shores leaves his smile wan, and his blood stopped hears in the frail anon the shovings and the lovings of Her tongue. god Is The Sea.  All terrors of his being quake before this its hideous Work most old Whose battening gesture prophecies a freeing of ghostly chaos in this dangerous night through moaned space god worships God— (behold! where chaste stars writhe captured in brightening fright)

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