Hungry
I have heard you and the stone fruits
making sound at night when you are hungry.
I know that if I came to you,
bleary-eyed and naked,
you would feed me too.
Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd something not-mine that I love:
because i love you)last night
by e.e. cummings
clothed in sealace
appeared to me
your mind drifting
with chuckling rubbish
of pearl weed coral and stones;
lifted,and(before my
eyes sinking)inward,fled;softly
your face smile breasts gargled
by death:drowned only
again carefully through deepness to rise
these your wrists
thighs feet hands
poising
to again utterly disappear;
rushing gently swiftly creeping
through my dreams last
night,all of your
body with its spirit floated
(clothed only in
the tide's acute weaving murmur
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