Seventy finger table, wide eyed spark.
Wait for night to smile, and then I cut the cards.
Living, breathing, cold hands, fixing futures.
Always figured they knew what they were doing.
Always figured they’d figure it out.
Dealer deals, lifetimes winnings.
Breathe, sometimes, her genius grinning.

Two cards a piece.
Shuffled decks, stacked everybody’s destiny.
Left them thinking, ‘there’s nothing left of me.’
Future’s fixed, so they’re folding.
They don’t see what she’s holding,
recall, lifetimes ago, what she told me.
‘Take nothing so seriously.’
A king and queen in her eyes.

Heavenly thing, crusader. Fine wine, art.
Rooftop nights, see miles, before we cut the cards.
Giving, breathing, hold hands, fix the future.
Always doubted they knew what they were doing.
Always doubted that they’d never doubt.
Movie reels, lifetimes spinning,
crawl, sometimes, to old beginnings.

Eyes spark up again,
four hands, two cards who know no end.

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