such small hands

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

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 too 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 skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose  
 

 
or if your wish be to close 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 perceive 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

Such Small Hands