L'ESPRIT D'ESCALIER

By AKT

Fri, 29 May 2020
  • 217 reads
 
1. 
 
I want to tell you something. Here’s the thing; 
 
Sure, sex is fun, but have you ever flexed 
your hand shortly after helping someone 
you can barely contain your passion for 
into a carriage? The pent up tension 
 
releases for a second. Don’t look back. 
This longing feeling. Pause. Hold onto it. 
Sit with it. Remember to breathe. And yes 
 
we will disagree in the rain and yes 
you will get the wrong idea about me 
and yes I should swallow my pride and say... 
 
something. Before we depart and our distance 
defeats us. Later on I’ll regret this 
but right now any words I think seem wrong. 
 
 
2. 
 
So, right now, anything I think seems wrong. 
None of my words or images capture 
the coy half smile at the side of your mouth
I swear I’ve so often seen. There’s no spring, 
summer, autumn, or winter metaphor 
appropriate for you, and so instead 
 
I will tell you I’m lying on my back 
in a park. There’s a red kite above me. 
With minuscule movements it waits for its 
moment. Drifts on the breeze. Watches the ground. 
 
There’s a brief pause before it strikes. What if, 
in that moment, it has self doubt? What if 
it loses confidence? What if it pulls 
away at the last second? What happens? 
 
 
3. 
 
“Okay. In the last second. What happens?”
We’re editing a film we’re in and we 
can’t quite get the ending right. “So, what if...” 
 
There’s this take of the scene. We’re being chased. 
We dip into an alleyway and kiss. 
Our pursuers don’t notice and run on 
 
and we fail to notice they’re long gone 
because we’re caught in this excitement now, 
beyond caring, just in this moment now. 
 
Nothing else matters, just us kissing now. 
 
The director shouts cut but we don’t stop. 
Shouts it again. We still don’t stop. You click 
 
your fingers in front of my face. “Come on. 
Hey! Snap out of it! What’s the answer here?”
 
 
4. 
 
“Hey! Snap out of it. What’s the answer here?” 
“I’m sorry, can you repeat the question?” 
 
I’m on a game show. I’m sweating under 
these studio lights and I’m feeling more 
 
like it’s a ‘Frost/Nixon’ situation 
and I can see you in the audience. 
 
You are very distracting. I don’t hear 
the host repeating the question. I’m lost. 
 
I’ve caught your eye. I can’t work out your look. 
It’s interrupted me. I can’t settle. 
 
Wait, are you mouthing the answer at me? 
What is it I’m not getting here? 
 
You’re smiling at me and I’m totally done. 
I look in your eyes as the clock ticks down. 
 
 
5.  
 
The clock’s ticking down. The look in your eyes 
is of total panic. I’ve forgotten 
Which wire’s the right one to cut. I’m out 
of my element. Almost out of time. 
 
You hold my hand. “What does your instinct say?” 
It says let’s run away, make a break for it, 
get out of here and never look back, 
find ourselves anywhere else in the world. 
 
You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever 
seen and you’re holding my hand and I just 
don’t understand how I’m supposed to be 
able to focus on anything else 
 
but we’re almost out of time. The wires. 
I pick one. I take a deep breath. I cut. 
 
 
6. 
 
Three... Two... One... I take a deep breath. I jump. 
In the space of seconds I’ll hit water. 
On the way down I turn, twist, roll, spin, catch 
sight of you at the judges table. Oh. 
 
You’re flirting with my nemesis. I bet 
you’ll expect me to be okay with this. 
 
I’m thrown. I exit my somersault too late 
and mess up my entry. My scores are poor. 
 
While I’m getting dressed, you two get engaged. 
Later, in the pub, you discuss flower 
arrangements. I occasionally nod, 
wishing I were anywhere else right now. 
 
You’re kissing now. Well that’s just great. Oh God, 
I just want to leave. I just want to go. 
 
 
7.  
 
I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go. 
We’re by a river. We have a picnic. 
 
A boat punts through the canopy of a 
willow tree, draws the curtain back behind, 
 
goes on its way. Breeze blows dandelion 
seeds. Some come to rest in your hair. I run 
 
my fingers through to get them out. Settle 
my palm on your cheek. You look in my eyes 
 
and everything stops. Timers, pursuits, 
questions, contests, peril, sadness, all paused 
 
for this moment. It’s all going away. 
I’m alive. And you’re alive too. And now... 
 
(Okay. Reach out. Time’s almost up. Here goes.) 
Here’s the thing. I want to tell you something...
Certificate PG
Poem