the spring has been exquisite and the
summer may be beautiful. But,
tell me with eyes quiteshut
did you love me,will you love me
and perfectly so forth;i see,
kissing you—only kissing
you(it is still spring
and summer may be beautiful)shall we
say years? O let us say it,girl
to boy smiling while the moments kill
us gently and infinitely.
And believe(do not believe)there’ll
be a time when even these leaves will
crawl expensively away. My lady.
by e.e. cummings.