Why I Can'T Believe In Anything But You Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Growing closer whichever way
The sun
Crosses you,

All day long making
Cold cuts of reason;
This is why you exhibit
Such
Feverish treason
To the spectacular ruby
In the
Crocodilian gaze;

You never step
Down or
Hold hands;
All you need is a
Glass of water
And you are ready to
Skip
School again,

Spurious,
Pugilistic and saucy,
But able to shape pottery;
And the traffic slows
Even though you are far away,
Knee high in a suburban field:

They still have the senses,
The creep of unexplainable wonder,

But I know for certain that this is
The way that you does,
And it is why I can’t believe in
Anything but you again.