it is at moments after I have dreamed by E. E. Cummings
it is at moments after i have dreamed of the rare entertainment of your eyes, when(being fool to fancy)i have deemed
with your peculiar mouth my heart made wise; at moments when the glassy darkness holds
the genuine apparition of your smile (it was through tears always)and silence moulds such strangeness as was mine a little while;
moments when my once more illustrious arms are filled with fascination,when my breast wears the intolerant brightness of your charms:
one pierced moment whiter than the rest
-turning from the tremendous lie of sleep i watch the roses of the day grow deep.
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