Poetry | Somewhere I Have Never Traveled, gladly beyond — e. e. cummings

Tranquil scene with a view from behind of the silhouette of a wet young woman standing in the ocean facing out in meditation as the water flows around her legs creating a rippling pattern

somewhere I have never traveled, gladly beyond

any experience, your eyes have their silence:
Double exposure portrait of young lady combined with photograph of nature

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
Female Model with several Hands on Her Face in black and white.

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

Somewhere I Have Never Traveled, gladly beyond — e. e. cummings



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