In truth, I wasn’t looking when you fanned
the cards (nor did I count them, I confess).
Initially I held the better hand
but yours was played with preconceived finesse.
Oblivious to what was being dealt,
I met your gaze and honestly believed
in what I thought I saw and what I felt.
You never blinked; just played the ace you’d sleeved.
No use in looking back on burning trumps
or bridges. Though, of course, I’d never choose
to play if I had known, guess only chumps
keep staking what they can’t afford to lose.
I’m beaten. Mine’s the sorrow; yours the shame.
One’s leap of faith is just another’s game.