This late in the game, I still don’t know what the rules
are, whether I am winning or losing, or somewhere in-between, living my life by
the roll of a die, that tells me how many squares to move, and what I woe when
I land on that doesn’t belong to me.
We just go round and round, collecting when we pass Go,
losing it almost as soon as we get it, and maybe, if lucky, getting it back
when someone else lands on a square we declare as our own, just a game, no real
winners or losers, though each morning when I wake up from dreams I feel as if
I have lost it all again, this after having not seen or heard from her since
that dismal day when the school got renamed and I saw her (over my shoulder) on
the stairs, staring down at me as if she’d felt lost in the game as well,
neither one of us able to articulate what was at stake, my heart – as they always
say – on my sleeve, beating madly, feeling the way I’ve always felt, going
round and round, going passed Go, yet getting nowhere, nor even getting stuck
for too long in jail where it is far safer than on the rest of the board, her
pieces ahead of my piece, and I know I’ll never be able to catch up.
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