I can still hear the children’s laughter pierce
a fresh summer sky through two sheets of glass
and a gaze, held down that dirties my step.
Watch my breath cloud to kiss my reflection
a two tone affair, an old parlour trick.
Still the sleight catches me off guard when I
catch a tulip blossom in these taut hands.
This card house was built on aces, two fold
with a King high on divine right, bad hand
stuffed in a turncoat with the fingers tucked.
Find me holding my breath, lies are kindling
for a bigger fire where rats will dream
in the leaves to wait for a worthwhile cause.