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Voice Post: e. e. cummings - cellophane
the story of an invisible girl
renniekins
renniekins
Voice Post: e. e. cummings
somewhere i have never traveled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands


VoicePost
234K 1:10
“Here's my effort at reading it -- this is such a beautiful poem.”

Transcribed by: renniekins

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Comments
(no subject) - davehogg - Expand
renniekins From: renniekins Date: October 10th, 2007 11:40 pm (UTC) (Link)
:-P
swerve From: swerve Date: October 11th, 2007 04:32 pm (UTC) (Link)
Love love love this poem. My mother will sometimes look at my hands and say, "Nobody, not even the rain..."
read 4 comments | talk to me!