~The spring~

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.