Checkers And Chess

I like things black and white

lines struck stark

in their clarity

male behavior nearly psychic

in its compliance

anticipatory supplicant

my wall's got a switch

and it's either on or off

the click of it

a whip in an empty marble room

but men don't have

crystal balls

many of us don't have

balls at all

and in our

sacks and packs

and flesh

we carry color

confounding color

pink shades

blemishes and blushes

that can be coaxed

darker

with feelings

or made deeper with friction

and those pinks

are reds

when less amorous

friction is applied

a spirited argument

burning apple cheekbones

red delicious

maybe the apple

gets bruised

when the bickering

gets more spirited still

maybe we try to dig

can you dig?

find us some worms

fibrous meat and juice

flying all over marble

because crimson and scarlet and blush

are blind to lines

no lines

don't see them

no matter their starkness

and there's blood

between my lines