(no subject)

[pulchra_regina]

My Cinncinnati lover doesn't hate me. He lost his cell and loves me still. I=happier. I=was not happier when i wrote this poem last night.

poker face

behind the fan of playing cards
that white grin, charming smile
soft eyes
the gentle, tender caress of the cards
in your hand
and the whispered “i love you”
dangling from your convincing lips
stacks of chips before me
so much to lose
how much to wager?
another glance from your soft gaze
and I melt under your mocha stare
All in.
For a moment
my triumph is golden
I lay my cards bare
For your eyes
as you lower your hand
and there
hidden from view
the King of Spades.
Such a hand.
Such a wager.
Such a loss.
Such a poker face.

any thots-i kinda like this one. . .comments=much appreciated