He loves me, He loves me not

He loves me.

i have found what you are like
the rain,

(Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deed of green thrilling light

with thinned

newfragile yellows

lurch and.press

--in the woods
which
stutter
and



sing

And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
queitly)almost,

your kiss


e.e. cummings, Tulips and Chimneys (1922), Chimneys, Sonnets-Actualities XVI

Happy birthday to me.