“I love you.” Pawn to king three
mobilises your infantry.
Black regards, fields a knight,
an early move to protect his right.
Queen to king’s rook four
takes the battle to his door,
sends his knight running
in this contest of cunning.
And while he looks,
you open your rooks,
your sleek bishops
insurance against mishaps.
Daunted, black responds
with a few desultory pawns –
till endgame stares him in the face
to tell him he’s lost the race.
White to play and mate in two:
cold eye and hand move “I hate you.”