Until The Night Sucreases Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Willfully, I want to see you again soon;
I want to see you like a bad princes in an overgrown
Fairytale:
I want to take us to our beaches atop the hills that
Surrounded a Disney World of Rome,
And here hide with you in the preaching of the huts
Of dried fronds:
I want to palaver with your eyes and your tongue
Underneath the speakeasies of temptation’s windmills,
Alma;
And undress you underneath the equal ceiling fans of
My two bedrooms,
One of crying blue, and the other of the sky;
And meet the caesuras of your brown undulations like
Cheerleaders meeting quarterbacks;
And it doesn’t have to be unreal, and you can flirt with
Anyone throughout your washing machine of days,
Like a butterfly who gives its exegesis of colors freely
But always floats away to me,
Across the neighbors and their retiring breweries;
And all of the flowers and the puppies in their ditches,
Sung to by rattlesnakes;
And comes to me here of all places, and here puts her brown
Lips to my brakes;
And says she loves me just as quietly as she pleases
Until the day continues until the night surceases.