Reflections, 1918 XI by e.e. cummings


this cigarette is extremely long,

i get them by the indigo box of 10.

And then, you were sitting across from me:

and my blood silkily telling i was, how wrong!

(i thinking to have remembered how

you were beautiful) this cigarette, when

inhaled, produces a mystery

like scented angels joking in a sharp soft row

(i buy 10 of them in an indigo box.)

Wrists.   Elbows,   Shoulders.   Fingers.

the minute amorous stirs

of flesh invisibly visible (this

cigarette, exhaled in musical shocks

of kiss-colored silence) by Christ kiss me.   One kiss

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. estaye
    Aug 27, 2014 @ 08:32:26

    Hi there,

    I came across this page and I am confused.. What does this poem mean at all?
    I read that ee Cummings had his own way with grammar; why so? How did it help him express himself better?

    Thank you 🙂

    – from a curious reader


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