night and day pass,
like staring at a deck of cards,
passively mindful
of the shuffling going on.
days of card-face images
and nighttimes of fluid table-top space
made player evident.
always waiting for a hand to be dealt
that one would want to play.
reality is poker time.
chip stacks vary.
we are all of some relative worth.
somehow the game never ends.
we take breaks,
for sanity reasons,
otherwise,
eyes are always on the potential
of a winning hand as the prize.
at some point,
the game is discovered to be
not about winning
but about the nature of play,
who one is,
for what they say and play.
it's where we all ware tells
but who bluffs the truth,
given what they're dealt
only determines
ongoingly,
what's your worth to yourself
and your assistance to others . . .
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