Checkmate

if you sit still inside of yourself,

refusing to hover over the surface of things,

you might just discover a new way to inhabit

your flesh, the body you have been given,

the one that slipped out of your mother

on the day you were born

and gasped for air like a fish

as your lungs learned to embrace oxygen;

this body has carried you,

the muscles, breath, tendons, toes

are yours to cherish, to abuse, to adore.

sometimes a body enters your space

and every fiber of your being

is aware of its presence 

and there is nothing you can do but

line up your pawns 

and ask them to take two steps forward with you

before they scoot to the side,

leaving your path clear.

you’ve played before,

but, this time, break the rules,

eschew the game,

and operate with the assuredness

that comes from inhabiting your space

rather than hovering on the surface.

find the moment where you connect,

fingertips brushing, a hand on your hip,

and revel in the knowledge

that you have won.