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In The Rain-
by E. E. Cummings in the rain- darkness, the sunset being sheathed i sit and think of you the holy city which is your face your little cheeks the streets of smiles your eyes half- thrush half-angel and your drowsy lips where float flowers of kiss and there is the sweet shy pirouette your hair and then your dancesong soul. rarely-beloved a single star is uttered, and i think of you |
