lie on opposite ends of a chessboard,
half of which is now charred
by a fire
that has consumed our verses.
Whiffs of smoke
rise from black squares.
Carefully, we move
diagonally, towards each other,
with fresh words.
No arrangement is random.
If you analyze the game carefully,
you'll realize that we're actually
scrabbling in love
and this randomness
is a disguised hint.
Now the truth falls
down and across.








5 old applause
