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November 12, 2010

POEM.

Checkmate



The doorbell wakes me up... 
I didn't know you were coming over.
The clock in the corner reads 1:23
and I cringe at the chronological order
that messes with my head.

I'm not the kind of person
to leave you on the doorstep, 
but I know you would 
run over me 
with freight train force,
so I lay the tracks and let you enter.

It know it would've been easier to sip
coffee in silence and ignore
the whistle of that metal engine
whipping past us 
stirring up our old memories 
but our relationship was never easy.

When the coffee’s done brewing 
I offer you hazelnut cream
but I quickly become aware
that all you've poured into your cup
is a few splashes of sarcasm
and a hint of sickly sweet remarks.

You take a gulp and prop 
yourself up on the kitchen counter
diagonally mocking me
like a chess piece
waiting to make a move.
(The patterned tiles don't help the illusion)

I lean back and look away
pretending that
I'm not falling to pieces.
But I was put back together 
with a glue-stick after all
and everyone knows those never do. 

My mind is telling me 
to derail the train,
to leave the room,
to scream until I'm speechless
but the truth is
I don't want to.

You cross the board with that charm
that always got to me.
(our coffee has gone cold)
The clock in the corner reads 1:55.

Checkmate. 







1 comment:

wildrosesinfaith said...

THis is positively wonderful Laura!