"(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"
--somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond, e. e. cummings
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"
--somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond, e. e. cummings
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