Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sonnet 91

Fatal Interview
Now by this moon, before this moon shall wane I shall be dead or I shall be with you! No moral concept can outweigh the pain Past rack and wheel this absence puts me through; Faith, honour, pride, endurance, what the tongues Of tedious men will say, or what the law — For which of these do I fill up my lungs With brine and fire at every breath I draw? Time, and to spare, for patience by and by, Time to be cold and time to sleep alone; Let me no more until the hour I die Defraud my innocent senses of their own. Before this moon shall darken, say of me: She's in her grave, or where she wants to be.