My Fading Tomb Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Lamps are jeweled with the drool from a sleepy sky,
And I have told her to get off her knees,
But she was only checking my navel for the hibernating
Butterfly- When it flew away like a beautiful disease,
She stood up on her own with disinterested eyes;
So many years ago she forgot all about who I was,
And followed the asphalt rivers into the drowsing rooms
Down in the smoking earth, where the irascible men are curling
With the lizards, and they are all the same, and she goes
And entwines with them, not remembering my name,
Though she remembers how the butterfly flew away,
And for a second she looked into my eyes, and there were
Almost thoughtless tears far beneath the fathomless sky,
Where the azure lamps gave their halos in strange swaths
Of newly conducted electricities, and she walks away
Still echoing, for she no longer hinges upon marrying me,
As she is the whispering tune reverberating with symmetries,
Changed like a butterfly, hovering in his soft palm as if
He was her flower,
Bloomed from the wispy cracks of my fading tomb.