my girl's tall with hard long eyes

as she stands, with her long hands keeping

silence on her dress, good for sleeping

is her long hard body filled with surprise

like a white shocking wire, when she smiles

a hard long smile it sometimes makes

gaily go clean through me tickling aches,

and the weak noise of her eyes easily files

my impatience to an edge--my girl's tall

and taut, with thin legs just like a vine

that's spent all of its life on a garden-wall,

and is going to die. When we grimly go to bed

with these legs she begins to heave and twine

about me, and to kiss my face and head.



- e.e. cummings