The Houses Of My Sea Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Now in the broom closets of her extended
Home,
And deep in love with un hombre se llama Mexico:
How at first they kiss,
And then they peel, while Heidi lies sated looks
Like a two year old shadow in the
Darkness,
All of the words budding inside her jaws and running
Around the Merry Go Round fields
Where she was Christened and grew:
And they make love silently, the embarkations of
A brown ship in a nearly breathless sea,
The moon a cul-de-sac round with the haunts
Of preternatural reindeer;
And she is not looking so sad, his eyes are reigning down
Full of a smoking world that burns through the memories
Which way they crossed
The landscapes of humid fronteras, and how he even came
Back for her after the bruises of honeymoons,
And there isn’t a thing that she could forget-
A one winged Alma,
And she pants up to him, a fluming tigress, who remembers
Me as well,
And wants to swim in the houses of my sea all the same.