E. E. Cummings

If I Should Sleep With A Lady Called Death

if I should sleep with a lady called death get another man with firmer lips ` to take your new mouth in his teeth (hips pumping pleasure into hips). Seeing how the limp huddling string of your smile over his body squirms kissingly, I will bring you every spring handfuls of little normal worms. Dress deftly your flesh in stupid stuffs, phrase the immense weapon of your hair. Understanding why his eye laughs, I will bring you every year something which is worth the whole, an inch of nothing for your soul.

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