Fornication In Brevity Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I will go then like a doll in a park into the sea
And waiting for you,
Drown or burn in that enshrouded estuary with memories
Of the cars that passed by us as we kissed
And your children waited at home
For you—
And why don't you come back to me, for the flea markets
Remind everything of you—
This entire city is filling up with people of your color,
Though you have moved away with your husband
Into the horse country in between the orchards—
With their ladders seemingly as tall as
Cathedrals—
Where, imagining, fireworks kissing, fornicate in
Brevity—as you are passed along—reminded of your mother:
Youth leaving you behind—
Forgetting everything you played with, and I a lonely
Part of that back in the footfalls of a high school you
Never cared about—
Until the right man comes along and eventually
Sweeps you off your feet.