Some Where I Have Never Travelled,Gladly Beyond - e.e.cummings
somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
and 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 every where descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense frailty: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 your 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