The Professionals Circuit Archive - Checkmate       Checkmate

 

by Joana Dey

  
 It's just that I'm afraid.
 There, I've admitted it.
 I love him so much. 
 my heart could explode
 from the wanting, the need-- 
 for him to complete the jigsaw 
 that claims my soul.

It's impossible now,
 to be with him in the car, in his flat--
 anywhere; all I want is to
 grab him and touch every
 piece of his body with mine.
 I'm so ready to lunge,
 my toes ache as I try
 to keep still.

There's a lump deep inside
 so big I can't breathe.
 Won't he see the pain
 spilling from my eyes?
 Or hear the words
 struggling out to be heard
 as normal-nothing's-wrong.
 Smile, Ray. Laugh, Ray. 
 Life's just a joke--
 and I'm giving away
 the clown's tears.

Ruffling my hair, patting my arse,
 pushing me up to-- and past --
 the limit of bearable pain.
 As though he's teasing or testing
 to see how far he can go.
 I flaunt and flirt and wiggle;
 do all I can to make him look
 and see how strong I'm wanting.
 Birds all flock, so why not him? 

He adores perfection and beauty.
 And then there's me:
 round, little eyes, crooked teeth;
 ugly me!
 And bloody hell , this cheekbone:
 shattered and put back together
 upside down and around.
 All I have is my body,
 to tempt him and pull him in.
 I can't live like this anymore.
 If I say anything, do anything,
 he'll run so far, I'll spend eternity
 trying to find him.
 I'd have no life without him.
 But the way I live now:
 waking at night reaching out,
 to find only cold, empty space?

I can't bear to be near him; 
 won't survive if we part.
 I'm trapped forever 
 in a spiral of fear, 
 turning and shattering;
 endlessly lost.

Take a chance? (Yellow coward)
 We're partners, best mates,
 a whole--not quite done.
 He'd kill for me, and I for him.
 We know each other's thoughts,
 can time our actions to the second
 without a wasted word.
 That's trust and faith.
 It's love.
 Why should I think 
 he'd fling me away,
 for telling how I feel?


I'm scared.... 
 He's playing a game with me--
 I think.
 Such an icy, closed-feeling facade
 he wears, to show the world 
 who he is.
 Fools all but me; 
 I know this man!
 The deeper he feels,
 the harder he jokes and....
 plays around?
 Ruffling my hair?
 Patting my arse!
 Touching me.

Do I dare?
 I know I'm right.
 I'll play his game.
 Touch me, Bodie,
 once more.......

Check-mate!

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