Seahorses Of Him Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Then up in Manhattan, I drip
Rum from my chin
I wonder whenever
I will ride the roller-coaster again—
Again:
As the windows palaver to their
Favorite boyfriends all summer—
Corneas in the center of
Busied flowers
Flow over—as they fade and
You make love to him:
To him;
And my song metamorphoses down
From a busy mountain:
Cascades from the parapets of
The heavens—
And you entwine in the glowing torsos
Of jellyfish
And seahorses of him:
Of him.