I hold a number in my womb,
nurture it with care until it blooms.
A sequence gathers, numbers align.
Some are born quickly,
others need time.
The number before it breathes,
the number after follows,
yet this one waits,
gestating in silence.
In the mood of the game,
zero spins with its sign.
A girl beside you, glasses, short skirt,
the glow of a notification,
the bet you should place.
Let the wind be your guide,
listen for what it carries.
A blessing hums
like a mustard seed of fortune nearby.
Leave the table.
Return.
Go to the washroom,
release yourself,
hold the number steady in your mind.
You are part of the divine.
The wave function collapses.
Before and after resolve.
A large voucher prints.
Ask the girl in green to cash it out.
Remember,
bless your friends with charity,
repair your needs right after.
When things are streamlined,
return to the table.
Play again.
Trust the process.
What you hear is not coincidence.
It is the current of abundance flowing.