you said Is
there anything which
is dead or alive more beautiful
than my body,to have in your fingers
(trembling ever so little)?
			               Looking into
your eyes Nothing,i said,except the
air of spring smelling of never and forever.

....and through the lattice which moved as
if a hand is touched by a
hand(which
moved as though
fingers touch a girl's
breast,
lightly)
        Do you believe in always,the wind
said to the rain
I am too busy with
my flowers to believe,the rain answered

Added: on June 28th, 2005 at 9:53 PM | Viewed: 29842 times | Comments (2)

Poet: e.e. cummings (e.e. cummings Art)
Poem: you said Is (XIII)

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