Her Lips Fly Away Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Little ships blossom
In blown glass spheres.

Her lips fly away,
Across the green holes where
The river sings.

Fragrant dreams bud
In cabbage green cabinets.

Her lips fly away,
Where a young soldier sleeps
Suffocated on a tomb of flowers.

Flooding pools dapple the
Blue lips of breathless mountains.

Her lips fly away,
Between the hummingbirds
Darting like thieves siphoning
Honey into their weightless tanks.

Veteran fingers uncork
The eager casks of fermented barely.

Her lips fly away,
To his lips positioned above hers
The wet entrails of hunters coming down
On her lips.

Her lips fly away far
From mine.