E. E. Cummings

When Hair Falls Off And Eyes Blur And

when hair falls off and eyes blur And thighs forget(when clocks whisper and night shouts)When minds shrivel and hearts grow brittler every Instant(when of a morning Memory stands, with clumsily wilted fingers emptying youth colour and what was into a dirtied glass)Pills for Ills (a recipe against Laughing Virginity Death) then dearest the way trees are made leaves open Clouds take sun mountains stand And oceans do Not sleep matters nothing;then(then the only hands so to speak are they always which creep budgingly over some numbered face capable of a largest nonglance the least unsmile or whatever weeds feel and fish think of)

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