In a more primal place
desire would in itself seduce
but I come to make combinations
of unlikely things
and move my pieces by laws
I cannot touch.
Someone has me thinking
I have been already too long
in classrooms.
I lower my tongue
with the speed of a drawbridge,
trying to get your attention
but I can’t make the sound
of towers in thin air.
It’s my turn
I’ll send this bishop
across the board to find you.
He carries a kind of invitation.
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