Rebuttal to e.e.

Somewhere I have unfortunately traveled, sadly beyond
any experience your eyes have their cunning,:
in your most frail gesture are things which implement their plans,
and which I cannot touch because they are too slippery

Your slightest look easily will undo me
though I have closed myself as fingers,
you open always wound by wound myself as the cell door opens
( slowly, cruelly, absolutely ) at first bell

or if your wish be to close me, I and
my life will shut very obediently, sharply
as when the heart of this prisoner imagines
the sharp blade above him carefully, descending

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the lethal beauty of its sweet hemlock,
rendering death forever with each moment your nearness has abandoned

( I do not know what it is about you that closes
and cuts; only something in me understands
the swift fury of your blade is death to all roses )
nobody, not even the rain, has such small, sharp, claws.