Your slightest look easily will unclose me, though I have closed myself as fingers, you open petal by petal myself a Spring opens her first rose.
Collected poems [of] E. E. Cummings (ed. 1966)
Your slightest look easily will unclose me, though I have closed myself as fingers, you open petal by petal myself a Spring opens her first rose.
Collected poems [of] E. E. Cummings (ed. 1966)