A Love Poem for Saturday

Chinua and I were given the opportunity to run away for a night (before my surgery) by my parents, who are watching the munchkins. We have the littlest munchkin, of course. Anyways, I thought I'd share my favorite poem in the world, a love poem by e.e. cummings. This says only a little of what I feel about Chinua, and comes from a book of poetry by cummings, which, ironically, was the first gift he ever gave me, right after we met.


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 will easily 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

e.e. cummings