It's almost cute,
how hard you hold that poker face.
You hide your true feelings,
your fire, desire,
your self.
It's all too big to cover,
with just one thin layer.
And really, it covers nothing
that hasn't already been revealed.
I've see through it all,
counted the cards, turn after turn.
With one action,
you slipped,
played your hand.
I'm no joker,
though I've acted the fool.
Things aren't magical,
and your hands don't pull slight
faster than the beholder's eye.
You may continue your game,
keep pretending to be the house.
I've already rigged the deck,
and I'm just waiting for
your card castle to crumble.
So go on, try this bluff.
Hold tight to
aces discarded.
I'll always be
a wild card.
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