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my love is building a building
around you, a frail slippery
house, a strong fragile house
(beginning at the singular beginning
of your smile)a skilful uncouth
prison, a precise clumsy
prison(building thatandthis into Thus,
Around the reckless magic of your mouth)
my love is building a magic, a discrete
tower of magic and(as i guess)
when Farmer Death(whom fairies hate)shall
crumble the mouth-flower fleet
He'll not my tower,
laborious, casual
where the surrounded smile
hangs
breathless
ee cummings
Read poems about / on: magic, house, smile, flower, hate, death, love, fairy
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