What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why…

I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.
– Edna St. Vincent Millay

Naked Song

Gustav Klimt – Fulfillment

Awake from caresses, I still feel your embrace running through my body. Shaken and tenuous I go on walking in your image. So deep with instincts was my simple reclamation. From me fled hours of robust will, and left my sensation humble of reasons. I didn’t know about ages nor rigid reflections. I was life, beloved! The life that passed through the song of the bird and artery of the tree. Other softer notes I could have made flow, but my fertile desire knew no shortcuts. I clung to the crazy hour, and my wild leaves bent over you. I freed myself to the purity of a love without garments that carried my life from the unreal to the human, and I was to see all of myself in a scream of tears, in remembrance of the birds. I did not know how to guard myself against invincible currents. I was life, beloved! The life that in you strayed from its course, to give itself to my arms.

-Unknown