Upon Whom To Lie The Blame Poem by Robert Rorabeck

If your dreams could sleep in unison, then what
Would it matter if our bodies would never touch:
Imagine two candles like brothers and sisters in a candelabrum:
Remember the secret games with your aunt spreading
Like spurious cousins across the backyards of the plantation:
And we could run together through the Christmas
Trees, making eyes:
And the fields would fill and pollinate, and our masks would
Be our disguise;
Because, Alma, I love you, and your body is so near, but I fear
That out bodies may never enjoy the same bonfires, or that you will
Never teach me how to cook- and that this is all a game:
Alma, our constellations may roam together but if their pinpoints never
Coalesce to touch then I hate to wonder upon whom to lie the blame.