E. E. Cummings

This day Died Again

this(let's remember)day died again and again;whose golden,crimson dooms conceive an oceaning abyss of orange dream larger than sky times earth:a flame beyond soul immemorially forevering am- and as collapsing that grey mind by wave doom disappeared,out of perhaps(who knows?) eternity floated a blossoming (while anyone might slowly count to soon) rose-did you see her?darling,did you(kiss me)quickly count to never?you were wrong -then all the way from perfect nowhere came (as easily as we forget something) livingest the imaginable moon

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