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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2157335
There's more to gambling than just another game of cards.Sometimes we bet with our hearts.
Flip the cards.
Eyes down but catching
faces carefully blank.
Always hold the queen of hearts.

It's just superstition.
A smile in the mirror,
between light and smoke.
Whiskey filled silence follows.

Yeterday smells like vanilla
warm as a spring night.
Precious as a promise
written on a grain of rice.

Dangerous gamble made
without meaning.
The cards are on the table,
face up, uncounted.

No desire to tally
or cash in.
What's had, in the end,
may be less than what's been.

Original:Unknown
Draft: 05-05-2018
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2157335