in the rain-

by e e cummings

In the rain-darkness,
the sunset
being sheathed i sit
and think of you the holy
city which is your face
your little cheeks the streets
of smiles

your eyes half-
thrush
half-angel and your drowsy
lips where float flowers of kiss

and
there is the sweet shy pirouette
your hair
and then
your dance song
soul rarely-beloved
a single star is
uttered, and i

think
of you