my chess philosophy

I choose red
my soldiers in two straight lines
across the checkered field from
their equivalent white
counterparts

instead of the board
I search his eyes
for any sign of weakness
but they are glassy calm
his focus fixed

I didn’t know he could be so still

as each man falls
his expression remains constant
no smirk
no gloating over what seems an inevitable victory

his eyes focused on the future
on what might be
if I would only move
as he would
but my game is strange to his eyes
I can’t bear the sight
of red
lying shattered across the battlefield
never to return to
mother
sister
lover

in precise movements
he marches across the board
while my pieces bend
and sway

barely escaping annihilation

until I know the pattern
and change the game
and his expressionless eyes blink
and he lays down his king

he shakes off the defeat
and returns
the calm emptying into puzzlement

How do you do it?

I just smile
and pack away the pawns I saved