With The Same Beautiful Eyes Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Long days of love making coming outside of the houses
That are not ours,
And running our scarred bodies into the first breaths of the sea,
Trying how to find out how the waves come
Up and down with the even pressures; maybe all of this is bound
To kill my liver,
But not before my loneliness takes me whole: The loneliness of looking
At all of these houses bound up in great fits the same way we are,
The way our bodies are made to coil together,
To press and need together, to know our astral signs that birthed us
In the pinstripes weathers;
And I dream of a road going through the country with tall grass and
Tall trees:
I dream of you along this road winding, and how we stop and make love
And almost lose ourselves while the murderers and grave robbers pass
Us by and forget about us;
And I dream that in all of this world there is really only one house,
And one beautiful woman to fill my life with her companionship;
And all the remaining answers are just the wrong doors that dropp off
The cliffs where the cars are crushed;
And under the eyes of this woman lies the seas filled with the only answers
That I need,
But besides this death is all around me and is filled with the same beautiful
Eyes that she seems to want to make for me.