Across The Open Mouths Of Your Starlet Constellations Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Your lips taste better than this bottle
Alma:
I know because I have tasted your lips today.
And how is that possible when you are more beautiful than
The most beautiful woman I have ever known:
What are you,
And you don’t believe me, but you have a beauty mark,
And you were right here today,
Telling lies and moaning; and I love you, and all of my other
Muses pale and turn to jealous ghosts,
And now the bottle is empty, but my windows are filled with the
Zoos of your eyes,
And all of your kind animals, Alma. Move into my house and
Bring your family because I love you:
I worship you, Alma, and any other possession would be most
Contrary:
Your world is a breathing portrait which would elevate me
To the cockpit of a fabulous daydream; and I am right
Here, Alma, holding my breath and counting steadily for you:
I am sorry that all of your rabbits were unlucky;
And I am sorry that my dogs are still in Arizona, but I don’t
Have to vagabond anymore: you are right here and fluctuating:
The movement without movement of your body is a
Carousel that really turns me on, and
I am glad that I don’t have to go anywhere, because I have already
Slept on the roof of your house;
And I already know that you really love me, while the comets
Burn their graffiti across the open mouths of your starlit constellations.