Her eyes sparkled like tonic water
as she doubles down
without ever looking at the cards
that lay upon the green felt table
like lovers in the grass
discussing the clouds.
Smoke from an obnoxious man's cigar
mask her beauty.
She wears her hair like a forest fire
and a dress of city smog.
Her lips are the color
of dried blood.
BUST says the dealer like a rusty gear
He lays down a jack.
"Story of my life" she whispers
and walks away
leaving her chips at the table.
Her husbands calls.
Her husband calls again.
Leave a message after the beep.