Poker Face
The abrupt scrape of his hand
across the harp of her hair,
A plucked duet with a head
in the mirror,
she drags red paste across her lips,
coloring outside the lines.
Pastel creams occlude
the creases of her startled smile.
He caught her dreaming,
a different hand, redealt
a flush, the knave of hearts
and all his friends.
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