About
one's not half two. It's two are halves of one: which halves reintegrating,shall occur no death and any quantity;but than all numerable mosts the actual more minds ignorant of stern miraculous this every truth-beware of heartless them (given the scalpel,they dissect a kiss; or,sold the reason,they undream a dream) one is the song which fiends and angels sing: all murdering lies by mortals told make two. Let liars wilt,repaying life they're loaned; we(by a gift called dying born)must grow deep in dark least ourselves remembering love only rides his year. All lose,whole find
e.e. cummings
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