SOMEWHERE I HAVE NEVER TRAVELED

Somewhere I have never traveled,
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

tough I have closed myself as fingers,

you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens

(touching skillfully, 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

Edward Estlin Cummings