E. E. Cummings

When My Love Comes To See Me It’s

when my love comes to see me it’s just a little like music,a little more like curving colour(say orange) against silence,or darkness…. the coming of my love emits a wonderful smell in my mind, you should see when i turn to find her how my least heart-beat becomes less. And then all her beauty is a vise whose stilling lips murder suddenly me, but of my corpse the tool her smile makes something suddenly luminous and precise —and then we are I and She…. what is that the hurdy-gurdy’s playing

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