Four writers for the price of one blog
…[we placed a long gilt-framed mirror] on chairs alongside our divan and [we] lay there naked in each other’s arms, so that we could see what we looked like when we made love; we had read that the spectacle was ludicrous and ugly—but we saw that that was a lie, for the spectacle was beautiful and charming.
And if I loved you Wednesday
···Well, what is that to you?
I do not love you Thursday—
···So much is true.
And why you come complaining
···Is more than I can see.
I loved you Wednesday,—yes—but what
···Is that to me?
Edna St. Vincent Millay
Written by Millay in the midst of her tryst with Dell