E. E. Cummings

I Have Seen Her A Stealthily Frail

I have seen her a stealthily frail flower walking with its fellows in the death of light,against whose enormous curves of flesh exactly cubes of tiny fragrance try; i have watched certain petals rapidly wish in the corners of her youth;whom,fiercely shy and gently brutal, the prettiest wrath of blossoms dishevelling made a pale fracas upon the accurate moon…. Across the important gardens her body will come toward me with its hurting sexual smell of lilies….beyond night’s silken immense swoon the moon is like a floating silver hell a song of adolescent ivory.

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