E.E.Cummings

you being in love

will tell who softly asks in love,

am i separated from your body smile brain hands merely

to become the jumping puppets of a dream? oh i mean:

entirely having in my careful how

careful arms created this at length

inexcusable, this inexplicable pleasure --you go from several

persons: believe me that strangers arrive 

when i have kissed you into a memory

slowly, oh seriously

--that since and if you dissappear

solemnly

myselves

ask "life, the question how do i drink dream smile

and how do i prefer this face to another and

why do i weep eat sleep --what does the whole intend"

they wonder. oh they cry "to be, being, that i am alive

this absurd fraction in its lowest terms

with everything cancelled

but shadows

--what does it all come down to?      love?      Love

if you like and i like, for the reason that i

hate people and lean out of this window is love, love

and the reason that i laugh and breathe is oh love and the reason

that i do not fall into this street is love"

Me encanta E.E. Cummings.

En cierta parte, me gusta que es un poco como yo: rebelde para escribir, complicado para describir y con una tímida pero galopante esquizofrenia.