How strange a game that hangs on chance;
contortionist’s colourful dance
should lead us to our great romance.
Spin of pointer that lands on square;
left hand red you may place it there,
limbs entwined, your lips in my hair.
So much more fun than solitaire;
uninhibited, bodies share
moments, spaces, intimate air.
How easy then when just we two
playing alone a game so new;
room to manoeuvre; no taboos.
Michael sang us Man on the Moon
but in same breath Risk followed soon
Game of Life slightly out of tune.
Another player joined the board,
spun the pointer and your heart soared;
right foot to blue and I was floored.
Jealousy reigned, resentment grew.
I read the rules and thought it true;
some games are only meant for two.