I like my broccoli when it is with your    by e.e. cummings

i like my broccoli when it is with your
broccoli. It is so quite a new thing.

Muscles better and nerves more.

i like your broccoli.

i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the stalk
of your broccoli and its head, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of broccoli,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric broccoli fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big broccoli,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you quite so new, broccoli.

 

 

i carry your broccoli with me         by e. e. cummings

i carry your broccoli with me(i carry it in
my bag) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go,my dear broccoli; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling )
i fear
no fate (for you are my fate,my sweet broccoli)i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you 

here is the deepest secret nobody knows, broccoli
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your broccoli (i carry it in my heart)

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