time is a tree (this life one leaf) but love is the sky and i am for you just so long and long enough
e. e. cummingslove being such, or such, the normal corners of your heart will never guess how much my wonderful jealousy is dark
e. e. cummingsthe other guineahen died of a broken heart and we came to New York. I used to sit at a table,drawing wings with a pencil that kept breaking and i kept remembering how your mind looked when it slept for several years,to wake up asking why. So then you turned into a photograph of somebody who’s trying not to laugh at somebody who’s trying not to cry
e. e. cummings