I have never forgotten your kiss, and the places we loved, and
Why I loved you, and your head in my arm while we slept; 
Where, the years, haunted, easing over to us and clutching
The satin, would whisper our findings to us… and M—

I remembered too the other loves that are gone forever.  
It almost hurt, but not as much as this wasting season 
Remembering you—long icicles falling off Kentucky barns,
Black snow sloughing off the undersides of cars.

Under the Virgo moon where I met you, I possessed you.
I cannot speak of the whos, or their whats, and then
Their wheres that have happened in the time since, 
Or before—for too, they flew— leaving my tree stark, nude.
All I know is I used to sing for them, and for you.

~This poem was adapted from/inspired by Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950) 
From her “What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why.”