Amber rays shine on a hand that weighs the pros and cons
of an ace of spades against a flush of hearts.
Trade one in to get it started.
A three of clubs leaves me brokenhearted.
Deuces wild;
meanwhile, I'm delaying tricks that will leave them convinced
that I've still got their number.
Stacked as such,
drawn into a straight pulled right out of my sleeve.
Your queens over kings ain't got **** on me.
Ante up.
I'll put you all in.
I only ever play for keeps,
and I always win.