The Dancing In The Sky Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I am reading old words trying
To remember where you come from,
When you pass above me once every few years—
Then the sky is a dancing ship
And your tresses are a fireworks display
Of blue palms and silver pinwheels,
And I swear then that everything is real,
Like the day before I was born when I remained
A part of you, something cooking in the sky,
And you kissed my cheek like a secret
That a mute girl tries to dance out,
Tries to sing,
But after I saw the world you were gone
And I could not speak,
And there was a great crookedness coming
From above, as if the sun was spilling out the
Window of a slanted house,
But I searched for you in the garlands of heaven….
When I was ten, you came back to me
Maybe for a day you did a strip-tease
Through the clouds and I could not look away—
Pulsing like the wound in God’s side,
I was sure your everything was real,
As you electrified the air so I dreamed I
Of pressing my mouth into your speech,
And tasting your moist distance,
That you might say to me and give me
New words that would cast me up into you,
But then you took a bow and left the stage,
Though I am sure I am the only one
Who saw your show— wherever you went
Is where I am now, but you did not tell me,
So I am lost and sit hypnotized near the sea,
Watching her swim,
But she is no comparison to you….