Ou est la reine noire?

i awoke in the realm of the black queen

her king nearby

at odds but not argument

threes to nines and back

The white queen awoke

sifting through jacks

debating what had happened

did the red one exist?

Did she not?

i slid back up

slipping into the red queen’s rooms

she laughed that they had forgotten her

she laughed that they knew it

shuffling her hearts

until the rooks fell and the knights flew

and breaking glass sounded like

the tinkling joy of all three

to nines

then back again

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Well, Hulloo There!

Unexpected

last night

i met myself

i think

first i met all the folks

i used to believe I was

they came to my table

one by one

two by two

trying to catch my attention

some were silent

some were gorgeous

some were pushy

some were obnoxious

then the girl that shared arrived

i think i knew it was me

by her eyes

a wilted rose she gave me

the petals and thorns falling in my hands

til just the stem was left

we ooh’d and ahh’d and decided to taste

the healing gel it contained

it was roses and green and soft

til the tart sour made saliva pour from our mouths

we decided to pickle it

or maybe make jelly

then we smiles at each other

recognition of understanding

our lips touched

to wake me from my slumber

comprehension

dawning with the sun

It’s Not Everyday

there is something expandingly wonderful

about waking up to laughter

squealing and giggling

irritating the neighbors

there is something intimately magical

about the ignored alarms

finger traps and knotted knees

hiding under the covers

there is something delightfully mundane

watching the blustery grey

sipping cocoa whilst reading other’s tales

soon to be wrapped in the joy of friends