Playing Chess.

Playing chess.
At the chess game we met,
And it was dark and wet.
As we were playing chess,
We began to confess.
We were alone,
Living in a romantic tone.
In silence we spoke,
To each other without a talk.
We have recalled,
The new and the old.
The weather was good,
It revived our blood.
We felt tired,
And that something we desired.
We went to deplore,
The love story we had before.
We forgot our moment,
Of pain and torment.
The old passion returns,
And it still burns.
Our spirits were unconfined.
And our earthy bodies left behind.
We could not hear,
But our hearts beating in fear.
We felt cold,
And for the first time bold.
We are touched by the finger,
And our emotion we could not hinder.
A touch was our first,
And that it was followed by the next.
finally we mix,
and we practiced sex.
We were very exhausted,
And did not know how long it lasted.

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Poem Submitted: Friday, November 18, 2005

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Maya Angelou

Caged Bird

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