let's live like the light that kills and let's as silence, because Whirl's after all

let's live suddenly without thinking

 

under honest trees, 

                                a stream 

does.the brain of cleverly-crinkling 

-water pursues the angry dream 

of the shore.     By midnight, 

                                                a moon 

scratches the skin of the organised hills 

 

an edged nothing begins to prune 

 

let's live like the light that kills 

and let's as silence, 

                                because Whirl's after all: 

(after me)love,and after you. 

I occasionally feel vague how 

vague i don't know tenuous Now-

spears and The Then-arrows making do 

our mouths something red,something tall 

 

[E. E. Cummings {1894-1962} ‘89’ from Collected Poems, 1922-1938]