now all the fingers of this tree(darling)have
by e. e. cummings
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now all the fingers of this tree(darling)have hands, and all the hands have people; and more each particular person is(my love) alive than every world can understand and now you are and i am now and we're a mystery which will never happen again, a miracle which has never happened before– and shining this our now must come to then our then shall be some darkness during which fingers are without hands; and i have no you: and all trees are(any more than each leafless)its silent in forevering snow —but never fear(my own, my beautiful my blossoming)for also then's until | ||