I have debated on this week's topic. John Donne, The Flea? Andrew Marvell, To His Coy Mistress? I love the humor and the light-hearted approach to sex in both of these poems. And yet, I didn't choose an amusing poem, but one that expresses the importance of sex and its loss.
The photo is by Carl Van Vechten; it was taken in 1933 and is considered public domain. Found on Wikipedia.
What Lips My Lips Have Kissed...
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 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