Friday, September 1, 2017

Check mate



You move, then I move,
Then it shifts between us,
Then a dull pain inside us
We do not resist,
We rattle internally
Like chess pieces
With our bodies as the board
A dizzy dispute
Neither of us expects to win,
Both of us embracing
The mood of it
As we strive,
The up and down of it,
The in and out,
The around of it,
The more we move
The more I world sways,
We are drunken sailors
On a self created sea
These storms roared
From out of us,
Making us crave a closeness
We cannot get close enough
To achieve,
This ritual of pain
That is not pain,
The struggle rumbling
Within us,
As our limbs entwine,
Struggling not to think about it
Only to feel it,
Not an act of love so much
As a quest for something
We can’t possibly achieve
You move, then I move,
Making the piece rattle
As I take your queen and you take mine,
The point not to check mate the other,
But to make it so neither of us
Can lose.



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