A Show of Hands

Bluffing? Hardly. There is no game. No bets. Absolutely no cards in my hand. Just empty palms facing up. Waiting to catch the next word that drops.

How many hands have we been through? How many suits have we fretted. Listening to the music of the chips we'd toss. Meaningless representations of a wealth I no longer possess.

I thought you were old enough to know. Knowing you'd suffered more than I have. But sometimes I guess, age has lessons to impart which no hardship can impress.

The only bluff was the one you assumed when you convinced yourself I was what you wanted.

I couldn't lie to you. Pretend to be recovered knowing this disease never ends. Life is so many things. But most of all it's wishing things could've been different.

Maybe life is the bluff. That it asks us to and then never let's us.