Everything That I Dream For Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I met you the Monday after I was robbed at gunpoint:
You were beautiful right away, Alma,
But I could ignore you, because I’d just bought lingerie for
Diana,
And my dreams were still falling uniquely somnolent for
A sommelier in Colorado:
So I said that I could work with you and not lose my mind,
But then the others proved to be so impossible and
So untrue:
I had dreams of open graveyards without them, and all of these
Sore wounds could not heal,
But you did so much for me this Monday that we both took
Off and you brought me over a painting of two
Elephants caressing that I finally got to lay straight on my wall:
I wonder how it is that you can find me beautiful:
Because I called you Linda, and you called me Lindo,
And there was the smell of peanuts, but otherwise I chastised myself
For not doing better art for you,
And we are all still just trying to survive, while you remain another
Man‘s woman,
But you are mercilessly beautiful, Alma, and you live next to the dog
Track, and I have walked to your house:
It was so easy:
Sunday is your daughter’s birthday: You can put two candles on
Her cake,
Because you are everything that I dream for.