a girl named Etcetera

I may die, Etcetera,
bravely of course.
My father became hoarse 
talking about how it was a privilege
and if he only could.
Meanwhile my self, Etcetera,
lay quietly in the deep mud,
dreaming, Etcetera,
of your smile 
eyes, knees, 
and of your etcetera.

     -e.e cummings

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