move forward
retreat a different way
move again
sliding across the board
until one more piece
is taken

my head pounds
thinking about you
far enough away
to touch the glass

I asked for nothing
not the game
or the turning
the distance
or ridicule
and yet you gave it

I took it
because at the time
I was worth nothing more

that nothing has grown
into wisps of clouds
intertwined with blue
the blush of spring blossoms
the rush of water
freed from the grip of winter
the light of morning
touching the window

without asking

I sit
bowed low
in your absence
April 3
Leigh-Anne Fraser

theme: the emperor


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