Ain't no better other way to seal this post with an E.E. Cummings poem (if you recognize it from the title) this early Valentine's morning. Loving hints of the inadequate nature of intellect and language in the expression of love or the depth of life, and the subtle thought that perhaps death can't interrupt love. Don't be deterred by the perceived verbosity, for it's the ambiguity that brings out the beauty and mystery ♥ Not to mention the clumsy use of syntax - the illogical disarray of the emotion maybe?
Since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves,
and kisses are a far better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
--the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis
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