Thick rimmed glasses, Clubs, Hearts and Spades.
The King of the Queens, the Jack of the Trades.
The master in his mind, insignificant in theirs.
Blind as they are, internal fire flares.
Passion runs deep, with the flip of the card.
Soul screaming silently, strategically scarred.
52 mysteries, all shuffled and stacked.
Naming them out, concentration cracked.
As they sit down, to the left of his game,
The master fades vastly out of his fame.
Her fall fashion scarf and Herb Essence tea,
Has distracted him from his Wednesday routine.
Her ignorance is a bliss born to him,
His glasses fog up and his face starts to swim.
What he can’t behold is the fondest of all,
The triumph, the victory, the Ace of the draw.