poetry is not a vehicle for conveying knowledge or information ... a poem is without meaning in any functional sense of the word. - Karl Shapiro on e.e.cummings in "Prosody as Meaning" Poetry March 1949

But let's cease being functional here:

somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
ee cummings


somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands

Cummings was a personal poet. How the poem made you feel far outweighed cumming's purpose. He would have relished the idea that the poem had meaning to you; forget it that you're way off the mark. How do you feel? What do you think? Are you happy, sad, annoyed, yes, even bored; as long as it makes you feel. To more succinctly understand the poetry of ee cummings, go here. And then, analyze this to death, or better, analyze it into life.