With apologies to Edna St. Vincent Millay
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten.
That umber lipstick, though, I can't forget.
The rain is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply.
I cannot say what loves have gone before;
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.
