I don't know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deep — E.E. Cummings
I don't know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deep — E.E. Cummings
I don't know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deep — E.E. Cummings
I don't know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deep — E.E. Cummings
I don't know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deep — E.E. Cummings
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I don't know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all the roses. Nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.

— E.E. Cummings
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