lashes and pawns

Never in my life have I felt more at peace when I grasped

The eyes of chess

Learning the rules was not enough and now

It’s a dance I perform with myself

It’s indescribable in its elegance while

I waltz despite my two left feet

Only I am no longer made of flesh

But a being made of pieces

Arms and legs are rendered wooden

And pawns line my eyes as I blink

A wooden stare and smelling checkered planes

I walk with rooks and twirl with bishops

As my pieces sit beside the enemy

I feel severed, a limb lost to the dance

An eyelash trickles to the end and

I am complete again

Light and dark spot the board

And my skin is freckled with strategy

My fingers, my nails, garnish my lips

I spin beyond recognition

My knee is tapped with a well-placed bishop

And my leg kicks in reflex

My brain is lost to a pinned king

And I can no longer waltz

I can tango, I can feign and saunter

A reflex isn’t solely crippling

For I can’t help the laws of my king

Or if they use my body against me

But I can trade an eye for an eye

And survive with enough to win

And so the eyes of chess are a blessing

Because they are my true eyes

In the presence of the board

And so are my limbs, my lips, my living body.