Saturday Night Soiree
You were the first I caught sight of as I arrived,
Presiding over the living room
In your settled khaki pinstriped way.
There was no glass in your hand,
No cigarette at your proudly curled lips,
Yet my scars burned with glee at the thought of you
And all the ways
You could slip into my hands.
I divined your future,
Gazing into crystalline liquid as I sipped.
For a time then,
Gravity was drowning in the transparent sea;
Its creatures danced for me behind my eyes
In choreographed discord.
Then distant laughter lured my place away;
My stomach churned to lead
When my vision lost pursuit of you.
But the sight of you sobered me again
Later, as the steam of coffee thawed my thoughts.
There were the dreamers of a sweet toxic dream
Blanketing the floor with heads tilted toward absurdity.
You were among them,
Your shadows spread wide for all to see;
You were beside him
Lying where you fell into my eyes,
Lying where your thoughts fell into mine,
And I could understand.
When we embraced in the driveway as you left
Your hands groped for an empathy to which to cling,
And with blue pleading eyes you toasted me;
I drank of power, chilled and sweet
And watched your taillights fade into the night,
Leaving questions, dulled emotions in their wake.
It was late before I went to sleep,
And I made the memories dance one more time for me
To the silence that lingered in empty glasses.
It was not fair
That I had seized your fate
Long before I watched it seal itself.
But I couldn't decide the sentence:
To pluck off your vanities one by one
And leave you to the sting of judging glances
That have turned fallen warriors to stone,
Or to unclench my hands and let you slip away
And bear the weight of our balance
Unavenged.
©1999 Elizabeth Hebert
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