now I lay me down to dream of(nothing i or any somebody or you can begin to begin to imagine) something which nobody may keep. - E. E. Cummings

We doctors know a hopeless case if — listen: there's a hell of a good universe next door; let's go

who knows if the moon's
a balloon, coming out of a keen city
in the sky—filled with pretty people?

somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence.
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you always open petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose or if it be your wish to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly
as the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending; nothing we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries
rendering death and forever with each breathing