Your Sincerely Beautiful Soul Poem by Robert Rorabeck

There are things that I shouldn’t say,
That you shouldn’t hear,
But I want to anyways, while the Ferris Wheels are
Caesuraing perpetually into the sky,
Like soldiers saluting the president, but secretly keeping
Bright ideas,
While everything around them fails and goes away, but
Only for a little while,
As the tide swallows itself and all the lost boys and their
Kites;
And now you are in one of those moods, Alma, and you’ve
Forgotten your English,
And all the mayhem I’ve made for you, skipping school in
My own tongue,
But it has been a fairytale that you have loved me,
And have stolen from me everything that I left cooling out
On the windowsill:
It has been unreal, the way the airplanes make extended crosses
In the sky,
Like visions I don’t really believe in, as your eyes will cut
Across me tomorrow,
In the traffic or in the rain, while all of the virgins sleep in
Their grottos,
And I know for certain that the only way that you have love
Him is through the avenues of your daughter,
But even that illusion will eviscerate as she learns to grow up
And walk right out of the transoms of your sincerely
Beautiful soul.