To my lovers, all nineteen of you

It's been seventeen years since numbers one
through seven saw me exposed
in the glare of camera lights and microphones.
I cried then, but not for you, or for me
or the child I would lose, the one dressed
prettily in lace lapels covering an azure
smock overlaid with pearls (if only in my mind).

And last week I saw eight, and nine, with
their wives, one slender still, one gone
to fat around her waist and thighs.
No one waved. I did not mind.

Ten? Where have you been? No longer
do you write? Have you died?
I remember your long arms, being hugged
by you as if by a bear, strong and wide.
Do you still sing at night? Does your tongue
honey another's sighs?

Eleven, twelve, thirteen . . . you came so quickly
and I never stayed behind. One of you loved me
and two of you paid for me, and that was
all right, for a time.

Fourteen, did you marry the fiancee you claimed
back home? Is she still as pure and simple
and chaste as you said, or have the years
ended that lie?

Fifteen, dearest, what have I done?
The divorce papers arrived long after
we had finished with our life. I still drink
a cappuccino every afternoon at five
and see your hands, and suit, and tie
that never came untied. Thank you
for the house, the car, the monthly checks
you faithfully still sign.

Sixteen, do you remember what I look like?
Is it presumptuous to call one night
a love affair, and holding a weeping woman
in tangled sheets an act of love?
I think not.

Seventeen, I know you hate
my guts. Bitch! I see it in your eyes
even if I do not hear it from your lips.
Unlucky for us both, we still must meet
each day at work. Hard looks will suffice.

Eighteen, a silly number, and you
with that silly name. I confess
you are an ugly sight, but you made me smile
and often laugh, which was more
than all the rest ever could.

And last, my dearest nineteen, I wish
we had never known each other's name. Do not
tell my daughter, and I will promise this:
to keep my eyes downcast, my mouth
shut tight, my memories mine. Just
do not lapse, do not ever break
both our hearts at once.

Au revoir dear boys. I won't forget.

Kiss-kiss. Kiss-kiss.