The Absolute Jealousness Of The Sun Poem by Robert Rorabeck

If you feel like a sliver in my side, Alma,
Where am I now,
But out of church and school, trying to put together
Better words to fool you out of his bed;
But you are in a pretty house, and all alone with your
Family,
Though I desire your love, as I have watched you spreading
Rose pedals with your breath;
And when I told you that it was you who would kill me,
You only laughed:
And now I am dancing for you, doing this again in my
Friendly darkness,
The bottle to my lips as if I were a child instead of a ghost,
As if this were the floor of the sea,
Instead the jagged hook of a mountain who was catching
All the gods to show you the way
The silver and gold flowers wriggle the perfume of their
Deity for you in the absolute jealousness of the sun.