Savvy Gambler, The

Rating: 3.2
I search for things to cloud my mind,
to maintain a dulling of the pain.
The suffering is drowning,
but the sense of self is ever-growing.

The air smells sweeter one layer up.
We drink in different moons:
his tall stature, my petite frame.

How can I go on loving—when the loving is not returned?
Restraint is power, he has the upper hand.
Keeps it in his back-pocket
where the luck is secure.
Friday, November 27, 2009
The power of the pocket....and the power of restraint...
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Robert Uy 27 November 2009
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Emancipation Planz 27 November 2009
Goldy... was it worth the toss? You bettcha... twas always going to be a 'pay off' to visit your page.. aroha, Deana xx
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John Lyday 27 November 2009
Nice little poem you have here.
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