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The Deck

You’ve been

bluffing your way

through our friend-

ship, the wine you’ve

swigged in minutes

making its naked presence

known,


that the joker

is worth

an even dozen,

one-up on my

ace of hearts,

for he vows to

make us laugh

at this time of

unspoken amour,


your royal flush

in the house of cards

we’ll construct with

trembling hands,


while love is concealed

like the side of the moon

that dares not show its face,

veiled in the

kitchen window,

withholding

its fevered glow.




©2022 Andreas Gripp


Andreas Gripp

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