quod amavi, illud iam non amo

On a Line by Petrarch:

What I once loved I now love less.
September leaves us shadows
but no light. I watch you undress, 

your body edged in darkness.
Miles on the stereo, those notes
that I once loved, and now love less—

the glint of anger they suppress
turns a kind of airless blue,
admits no light. I watch you undress 

your gestures of significance,
and leave me at a loss to know
what I once loved. I now love less 

than fluently, am forced to guess
at curve of neck and arch of brow.
But not at light. I watch you without redress 

to sound or sense. The needle lifts
at last from the refrain, its echo:
What I once loved I now love less.
But no; not light; not watching you, undressed. 

Eleanor Stanford.