mesmerizing
Roger Nash (1983)
Several Excuses for Having Stayed
I knew I just shouldn’t stay. But the butter
in her eyes melted over my shoes
when I started to walk away. Then the gate
fumbled free from under my hand
and went to earth in the rockery.
I knew I shouldn’t step in. The empty sofa
creaked like a snare. There was a flash
of gunshots from her hair as the light
ricocheted around it; and geese
in the print of the wall took faded light.
I knew I shouldn’t sit down. But each pear
on the table stuttered its speckles of brown,
anxious for conversation. Her smile
laced my shoes together, while the sun
pulled me up the glint on a chair.
I knew I shouldn’t sit near. But the guitar
on the radio borrowed my hand to steer
glittering chords through her hair. Light
wouldn’t let us out of its sight
each beam brought pans on the wall
to brass crescendos. The kitchen was caught
in the fevered throat of a constricted trumpet
its sides gleamed in and flared us together.
We knew we just shouldn’t stay. But the sun
wouldn’t stop to let us go away.