your backgammon heart

i can't find the way
into your backgammon heart
can't find the storm cellar
that leads to you

you were always hidden
off in some secret forest
of strange art and even
stranger comments

you seemed to come
from nowhere

you
always did

but more than now or having
there's these little days
where i find myself
wondering where you hide
the key to your backgammon heart

like a race into the unknown
for the people around you:
a great horizon tide of
confusing patterns and
misjudged possibilities

so i know or at least
suspect there must be
a way into your
backgammon heart
where all fine flowers surely sit

where all armies unclench
and dine together
and all valleys open
for commerce.

as surely it must.

this game's been going
for a thousand years
and you're just one more
check in the balance
one more host in a long
line of riddle-souls

(you can never make
heads or tails of them)

the last heir to a throne of
intrigue and toss-about
you march between moments
casting one gold leaf to
each wind

(most mysteries come down to direction)

and so, as with all great
secrets you stay stowed away
only showing the signs
of passion
in the depth of your
backgammon heart.

2008-01-17 | 11:52 a.m.
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