Higher And Higher, Singing Poem by Robert Rorabeck

You looked so divine: I wonder what the world is like
In which you carry yourself: It is no more real than my world,
But it is so much more beautiful
Than mine,
Alma;
And I called you to me like a wounded beast calling a butterfly
Who had just changed,
And still wondering what she was- she came, she came,
And on my dying lips was your national anthem,
And we studied together
Into my deathbed until my dying wish melted into the snow at your
Wings,
And you brushed them aside, and glittered away over the fireworks
And the fake boys trying to propose to you in the false light
Of the rosy tinfoil,
Until your stage burned beneath the mountains, and you flew and flew
Until you laughed and poked out the sun and
Stole his day away,
And carried yourself higher and higher, singing.