(From the poem "Wade" by E.E. c__mings)

I will wade out
Till my thighs are steeped
In burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
And leap into the ripe air
Alive with closed eyes
To dash against darkness

In the sleeping curves of my body
I shall enter fingers
Of smooth mastery
With chasteness of sea-gulls
Will I complete the mystery
Of my flesh
Will I complete the mystery
Of my flesh
My flesh

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