The Other Absolute Spaces Poem by Robert Rorabeck

These things happen here, because I need them to:
Eking them nightly out of paper, out of stone: while the
Airplanes and housewives pass just as insouciantly as if they
Had come over the mundane fireworks of any man’s neighborhood;
And I pass my time bighting my nails and wishing that
They had turned out more beautiful:
That they were the girls loving me just as I love them, and thought
About them all day long struggling their own bodies through the
Happenings of our abroad surrounding:
See them up close, thinking on how to describe their naked faces
That are so beautiful that it is just as well as seeing their
Everything undressed,
And talking about their eyes with the bright silence of my eyes,
And maybe their eyes even smile like happy little children stealing
Eggs;
And so now I have a house that I will soon fill up with my cloistered
Body, as I would have it fill up with hers as well:
I would give it a drinking fountain should it mean she would come calling
As if back to the sacred halls of our high school,
But all I can justly conjure is the echoes that she left, the perfume of
Her absence lingering through the funneling conduits,
And all the other absolute spaces that she left me to fill.