stand
with your lover on the ending earth-
and while a(huge which by which huger than huge)whoing sea leaps to greenly hurl snow
suppose we could not love,dear;imagine
ourselves like living neither nor dead these (or many thousand hearts which don't and dream or many million minds which sleep and move) blind sands,at pitiless the mercy of
time time time time time
-how fortunate are you and i,whose home is timelessness:we who have wandered down from fragrant mountains of eternal now
to frolic in such mysteries as birth and death a day(or maybe even less)
- e. e. cummings
My best friend's webpage
