and you said

let it be known, my love

that hearts are not like cards

in pairs and hearts and spades

and this is no game.

the rain was falling

outside the wide and

crooked window

with white residue from the

painted borders of the coffee shop.

you looked at me with a cigarette

and you said

did you ever consider the way

we move

orbiting closer to the center of something

that we do not see,

and we may not know what we're doing at all

until we're gone and buried.

I pretended not to understand

while you slid your piece

black as your smile

across the checker board

sipping on coffee

smoking a cigarette.

I became a king

two red circles on the very edge

of a game much bigger

than a checkered square.

and I considered the smell

of another man's cologne

in my lungs

in his bed.

and yes I have considered

that we may not know what we're doing at all

and I do not know how to pack a suitcase

and tell you


so I took my king

and I moved forward

in silence.

and you said, let it be known

my love.