Somewhere, by E.E. Cummings

[apurpletree]

somewhere I have 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're too near

your slightest look easily will enclose me

though I have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as spring opens

(touching

Comments

[thug_parodox]

nice poem. how are you doing yara?