E. E. Cummings

There Is A

there is a
moon sole
in the blue
night
 
      amorous of waters
tremulous,
blinded with silence the
undulous heaven yearns where
 
in tense starlessness
anoint with ardor
the yellow lover
 
stands in the dumb dark
svelte
and
urgent
 
        (again
love i slowly
gather
of thy languorous mouth the
 
thrilling
flower)
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