out of the lie of no
rises a truth of yes
(only herself and who
illimitably is)
making fools understand
(like wintry me) that not
all matterings of mind
equal one violet
***
Posted by
Cláudia Castelo
at
09:48
Labels: E. E. Cummings, poesia
1 comments:
Que boa escolha, Cláudia...
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