The He Whom Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I want to join you now
Even before we have to eat lunch:
I want to place my hand on the browned opals of your
Knee:
I want to kiss and kiss again,
Like the wind upon your flesh; and it doesn’t matter if
Everyone or no one is looking,
Just as the very mountains rise, and the airplanes take their
Passengers and their cargos deep through the
Evaporating skies;
As at night, I wonder if you miss me when I am gone,
As the sun comes up and climbs again, up again like a fireman
Surveying his same old world:
Up there he can see your home so close to mine,
Alma;
And just like me he knows that you do not like to read,
And just like me he wonders who it is that you love:
Who is that lucky person,
Alma, as I hold my breath, unyielding my optimisms
That, yes, I am the he whom it is you love.