I play a game of chess with Marcel Duchamp
Stripped bare totally but with looks still in the mood
I make a final move to rook him into my moan
‘You know I want to be the darkest queen of your dreams’
He lifts calm his queen as his eyebrows but without really looking at me
picks up my rook contiguously
deepens some of his penetrating basses and whispers playfully:
‘ You already are my sweet Rose Sélavy and shall stay so eternally but …
you know … for now…’
and that ‘but…for’ mutes my sexy mount line
highlights a grin of an ingenious rhyme and briefs a victory
on every strategic corner he knows to reach so well to
at once turn me on at an endgame pattern of check
to mate
‘… c’est la vie sweet Monsieur S’ he whispers
‘ I want to be the lone king for my queen’
and pushes solid his queen towards my defenseless territory.

Endgame : queen + king vs. king + rook (researched)

inspired by a poet


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