if I should sleep with a lady called death
get another man with firmer lips ‘
to take your new mouth in his teeth
(hips pumping pleasure into hips).
Seeing how the limp huddling string
of your smile over his body squirms
kissingly, I will bring you every spring
handfuls of little normal worms.
Dress deftly your flesh in stupid stuffs,
phrase the immense weapon of your hair.
Understanding why his eye laughs,
I will bring you every year
something which is worth the whole,
an inch of nothing for your soul.
(E. E. Cummings)
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