Zitat

Geschichte

  • system Erstellt 2 Jahre, 9 Monate her

    Here life is, moves; faintly. A wrist. The faint throb of blood, precise, miraculous . . .

    —  E.E. Cummings, Him

  • system updated 1 Jahr, 4 Monate her

    Here life is, moves; faintly. A wrist. The faint throb of blood, precise, miraculous . . .

    —  E.E. Cummings, Him

    Him (1927)
    Kontext: Here life is, moves; faintly. A wrist. The faint throb of blood, precise, miraculous... And they talk of dying! The blood delicately descending and ascending: making an arm. Being an arm. The warm flesh, the dim slender flesh filled with life, slenderer than a miracle, frailer... These are the shoulders through which fell the world. The dangerous shoulders of Eve, in god's entire garden newly strolling.

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