Path Of Your Uninvited Yesterdays Poem by Robert Rorabeck

My misspellings are gone—as the rainbow is gone
From beneath your shoulders—
And don't you have any idea about what exactly we
Are doing now—
Burying ourselves like overused castles against the
Sea I took you to once or twice—
And wasn't that a pretty thing—and another lie:
I told you that you beauty was just as great as
All of that cerulean mask—the monstropolous houses
Pressing neatly against our backs—
And I took you upon the swing-sets of my childhood
As they were just abandoned for one last time—
And left derelict in their neighborhoods of classrooms,
Like butterflies left like imperfect glass—up against
Wherever it was that I remember you last—
Hyperventilating - making a show of the uninviting
Weathers—but I guess he entered you, anyways—
Invading all of your paths of your
Uninvited yesterdays.