E.E. Cummings: Somewhere I have never travelled

[Jadynara]

[Somewhere i have never travelled]


somewhere i have never travelled,
gladly beyond any experience,
your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are to near.

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself
as Spring opens (touching skillfully, mysteriously)
her first rose.

or if you wish to be close to me,
i and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to percieve in this world
equals the power of your intense fragility:
whose texture compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens;
only something in me understands the voice of your eyes
is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.

[poeticpiers]

Something about this appeals to me strongly although I can't identify just what.