The Sock On Her Wrist

Over talks in riddles. Les its sock fall down. The pasty arithmetic of purchased men. And those that are bankrupt.

Drawings in the water like food coloring on the softest of your wounds. Playing the song with missing chords. Saying the prayer to gods you've given up on.

We're all dealers. Doling out the future to strangers across the tables. We're all bettors. Wagering on the bluff. We've been fooled before. It could happen again.

Losing isn't that different from the win. Except that you wonder sometimes whatever happened to them.

Measuring the strength of their wisdom by how much it hurt.