after i have dreamed

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

- turing from the tremendous lie of sleep
i watch the roses of the day grow deep

e.e. cummings
photo by irving penn

1 comment:

  1. really love this poem--thank you for sharing such great words xx