e. e. cummings poem

if there are any heavens my mother will (all by herself) have one.
It will not be a pansy heaven nor
a fragile heaven of lilies-of-the-valley but
it will be a heaven of blackred roses

my father will be (deep like a rose tall like a rose)

standing near (swaying over her silent)
with eyes which are really petals and see
nothing with the face of a poet really which
is a flower and not a face with hands
which whisper
This is my beloved my (suddenly in sunlight

he will bow,

& the whole garden will bow...
- e. e. cummings

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