Rules are written in ink,
but one hand holds the eraser.
A contract is read,
then rewritten in silence.

A game with no scoreboard,
no referee,
no end.
Only turns.

Words land clear,
then return distorted.
Meanings untangle,
only to be rewoven.

Moves shift without warning,
victory declared before the match begins.
Reason reaches forward,
but the definition changes mid-sentence.

Silence is not empty.
It is full of unspoken words,
accusations left implied,
conversations never started,
so they never have to end.

A question remains:
Does the game continue
if no one agrees to play?