Beg
sometimes
please
dripped pleasure
a game of chess
pieces, our bodies
board, the cosmos

River soft merging
with adored gentle
roughness, seductive
riffs abound

The thought of this girl
The girl who stimulated the mind
I challenged, she won

The mental game of chess
We exchanged pawns at first
Then the field started to open
I sent out my queen to capture her king
One by one taking down her peace.
Flipping her every move against her

But she had a secret plan, a terrible dark secret plan
That I should of known.

I made my move for the takedown
Queen and (k)night ready to fight.
My move I put the queen in position
I set up for the end, it's her move.
She has duplicate rooks
My king is in the corner
Next thing I know ... Checkmate

We found something worse than hate and love,
something that spawns when a heart is lost
and we thought it didn't exist, but it does
and we got hit with it's sun like the moss of a tree.

So now every time I fall for another one
it feels more like the ending of summer
and less like my favorite season.

Our mouths are loaded pistols
with golden bullet words that have no real direction,
spraying upwards towards a cloudless night sky,
but they never quite hit the stars.

I picked you out like a flower in a field
where the rain clouds stay,
where the ruiners of all good things play,
with temporary wars between you and I.

I moved your eyes like a chess piece
to wherever I walked in the room
so I checked into checkmate
so you could destroy me.
I thought you would have moved your rook
to E6, ending in a stalemate and us in love forever...

But you said "I'm so sorry" right before knocking my king over.

I hate your checkered past. I'm going to play solitaire.

Waltzing into the blanket of dusk.
A pawn escaping across the checkered board,
Out and inwards to the green grassed yard.
A sleeting figure, past-and-future,
Gone the way of the fearless noble rook.
Down-acrossed squares of black and white.  
Into the field of endless battle.

This game we play, has become a tournament.
White against black, two players locked;
Locked in a battle of constant wits.
Who shall win?
The noble too afraid to capture the evil queen or,
The darkness plauging the board.

**Check and mate.